The Fortune Teller
by LemonSupreme
Summary: Charlie likes Bass...she really does, but she is struggling to forgive him. When faced with the repercussions of some of her own actions, Charlie has a lot to consider. When she's given an opportunity to forgive Bass and embrace a whole new future... will she? Shotguns, Road Trips and Palm Readers, Oh my! Charloe w/ special guest Frank "Walnut" Blanchard!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The following story begins just days after the S2 finale concludes…but ignores the Nano storyline completely, so don't worry yourself with Idaho for this one. It will be short-ish… probably three/four chaps total.**

Part 1: Isn't it ironic, don't ya think?

Bass has been drinking in a seedy little bar with a few of the guys. Miles had been with them earlier but had left when Rachel came and told him he'd been out long enough, damn it. Bass just shakes his head, not bothering to say anything about how whipped his best friend has become. What would be the point? The rest of the guys they'd been drinking with had all left not long after Miles, so Bass is finishing up what he assumes will be his last one before heading home.

He is surprised to say the least when an obviously drunk Charlie sits down next to him at the bar, a big grin on her face, "Hey Monroe." She says with a laugh, teetering on the barstool.

"Damn Charlie. Looks like you've been drinking…a lot." Bass can't help but smile. Drunk Charlie can be very entertaining, though it has been a while since he's witnessed her like this. "You celebrating something?"

"Yep." She waves to the bartender. "Bring us a round of whatever he's drinking." The bartender nods and then she turns back to Bass. "I got a new place. I'm celebrating finally being on my own. I love Miles and my Mom, but they are driving me crazy. I had to leave and they needed some space." Her drink appears and she takes a deep gulp, wrinkling her nose at the intensity of the liquor. Then she's grinning again.

Bass can't help but notice how beautiful she is when she smiles. This isn't the first time he's noticed of course. He shakes off the thought – just as he always does, lifting his glass in a toast, "To Charlie getting her own place." He says with a smirk, "Look who's all grown up."

Charlie punches his shoulder playfully. She tries to look like she's mad, but is far too drunk to make it work, and her balance isn't great either. Instead of landing a blow, she tilts too far and falls into him – almost knocking them both to the floor. "You have no idea how grown up I am Monroe." She whispers as Bass wraps strong arms around her back, steadying her until she can stand on her own.

"Whoa girl. Maybe it's time you called it a night?" he chooses to ignore her comment, not really sure what to make of it. She's drunk, not interested. He knows this.

"No way." She says with a chuckle. "I'm a Matheson. I'm not ready to stop yet. I drink with the fishes!" she exclaims.

He shakes his head, laughing, "You mean you drink LIKE a fish, Charlie – not with the fish."

"Whatever. I'm not done." With that, she downs the rest of her drink and motions for a refill.

Bass shakes his head. "Fine. You're not done. We should at least get a booth. You're gonna fall off that barstool again and break your head open."

Charlie starts to argue, but the room is spinning and she decides he's right. "A booth." She agrees. Bass helps her to the far corner of the bar. Each table is topped with a few flickering candles. The faint glow doesn't make much of a dent in the shadows, but at least they can see each other's faces and the drinks in their hands.

"So, where's the new place?" he asks her casually, trying to ignore the fact that she slid in beside him instead of across.

"It's an apartment over the diner on King Street. It's really small, but it's big enough for me and I love it." She sighs happily and Bass finds himself mesmerized by her enthusiasm, her youth, and the fact that she has without warning, placed a hand on his thigh.

At first he assumes it's a mistake or a fluke or maybe she's having some sort of seizure. Sure, they've flirted. They've shared some looks so intense as to make him hard. There have even been touches before: him helping her out of a boat, her passing behind him a little too closely….. but never anything intentional like this.

Bass closes his eyes for just a second, taking mental inventory. He's drunk, but not so drunk that he would be hallucinating. He's tired, but not asleep so this isn't a dream. He slowly opens his eyes. Her hand is still there. He's been attracted to Charlie for a long time. When did it begin? He's not sure. That school probably. If not then, shortly after….but never for one second in all the time since has he thought she might ever return his interest. She doesn't. She can't. She's just drunk. That's all.

But now her hand is moving. Sweet Jesus.

"Uh Charlie?" finally he looks at her, his eyes wide, his voice a croak. "What are you doing?"

"Geez Monroe. Thought you were a ladies' man. Never had a woman reach under a table to touch your thigh before?" as she speaks her hand goes higher still.

"Charlie, your hand isn't on my thigh anymore…and I think you know that." His fists are clenching and unclenching on the table. He is suddenly stone cold sober, hard as a rock, and beyond conflicted. What the hell is happening here? He wants nothing more than to touch her, but he's learned his lesson. If something seems too good to be true, it is.

This is certainly too good to be true.

She smiles, leaning in closer. "Well, I guess you're right. That's NOT your thigh after all… my mistake." But she doesn't move her hand.

Bass takes a shaky breath, and meets her gaze. "You're drunk."

"That's true."

"You're drunk," he repeats, "And you need to stop this, because Drunk Charlie is writing checks Sober Charlie will not want to cash."

She giggles and leans in close, "I have no idea what that means, but Sober Charlie isn't here tonight. Let's not worry about her."

He pulls away, "As tempting as this is," he pauses, "whatever this is… Sober Charlie is important to me. You need some coffee and a good night's sleep." He moves her hand so that it rests on the thin strip of unoccupied bench between them. "We can talk about this tomorrow."

Charlie sighs, "It won't work. When I'm drunk I find ways to forgive you and forget about things, but when I'm not drunk…that stuff gets in the way of what I feel." She looks at him sadly.

Bass shakes his head, "If you ever work that out, let me know and we'll talk. Until then, you need to sober up. I'll walk you to your place." He sounds tired. This night has gone all sideways. He has no idea what to make of Charlie's bizarre behavior. No way is she really interested in him. Bass had always figured the flirting she had done was all meant as a joke on him to begin with.

Maybe this is a joke too. He frowns at her, but notes that she truly looks sad. "Okay, I give up. What can you not forgive me for when you're sober that doesn't bother you when you're drunk?"

"Danny and my Dad." She isn't meeting his eyes now. Instead she's staring at the table.

Bass runs a hand through his hair and leans back. He closes his eyes again and lets out a long defeated breath, "Right."

She sighs, "In my head, I know it was Neville who killed my Dad and that you wanted him alive. And in my head I know that Danny shouldn't have jumped in like he did. He wasn't a soldier."

"But?"

"But my heart…at least when I'm sober… can't get past the fact that your militia wanted my Dad, and if they hadn't come for him Neville wouldn't have been there. And I can't get past the fact that it was your helicopter that blew my brother away."

Bass gently pushes at Charlie, nudging her to exit the booth. She does, and he follows. "I'll walk you home." He says.

"What, you aren't going to argue with me?"

"Why would I argue? I blame me too, and for a lot more than your Dad and brother. I'm sorry, but I don't know what else I can do. I've tried to change. Hell, I think that I HAVE changed, but I can't undo the past." Bass rubs a hand along his bearded chin. "So I give up Charlie. Not that it matters. This little thing tonight wasn't really you anyway. You admitted it. You're drunk and not thinking straight."

"But that's the problem." She looks up at him now. "Do you know why I got drunk tonight?"

"You said you were celebrating?"

"That's not really it." I was sitting in my new apartment on my new bed looking around and feeling lonely I guess. I had this bottle of whiskey I had grabbed from Miles's stash when I was packing my stuff. I was drinking it and I started to think…."

"Think about what, Charlie?" he holds the door for her as they leave the bar.

"You. I was thinking about you. I know we haven't talked much lately, and I know you and my Mom have some weird hate-fest going on and that things between you and Miles are strained sometimes, but I was thinking about you. Thinking about how you came through for us with Davis. Thinking about how upset I was when Texas killed you. Thinking about watching you fight in New Vegas…"

"That's a lot of thinking."

She continues, "I was thinking about how I feel when I'm with you. And how sometimes you look at me in a way that makes me think that maybe you think about me too. I was thinking about how much I'd like to get to know you better..."

They are on the street now, walking side by side without touching. They walk for a while before Bass responds. "Sometimes you just have to bottle up those kinds of feelings because there's no point. I should know. Been doing it for months." He kicks absently at a small rock and it goes sailing.

She stops. "What do you mean?"

He stops too, facing her, "You're right. You aren't the only one who feels something Charlie. You aren't the only one who wonders about what could be, but we both know nothing can ever come of it. Obviously, I think you are an amazing girl. Under different circumstance, maybe we could have something…but that's not going to happen." He starts walking again. She follows.

"Bass, stop."

He does as she asks but won't turn. "What?"

"I'm sorry." She moves behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I shouldn't have said anything. I shouldn't have sat so close or…. Or anything."

He shrugs and turns to face her. The moonlight is soft and Bass can't stop himself from looking at her mouth. Her lips are so soft and so close. "It's okay. Charlie. Don't worry about it."

"Bass, I'm still kind of drunk." Her voice is nothing but a whisper, and she takes a step closer.

"Yeah?" He doesn't move. He doesn't breathe.

"Mmmm yeah," Charlie licks her lips then and Bass has to use every ounce of self control he has not to pull her close and kiss her. "I'm still kind of drunk," she continues, her hand now on his chest, "and right now I am not mad at you for any reason at all." Her hand moves, stroking the muscles of his chest through the fabric of his shirt.

Bass looks away, trying to collect his thoughts. "You gotta stop this."

"Bass, look at me." Charlie is in his space now. She's too close. Much too close. He knows he shouldn't look.

He looks.

Charlie may be drunk, but she's also determined. Leaning up on her toes, grasping his jacket with both hands, she pulls Bass to her. Chest to chest, Charlie presses her lips to his. He isn't going to kiss her back. He's not.

He kisses her back.

Bass slides his hands around her waist, feeling the warmth of her flesh through her flimsy tank top. He pulls her closer as their mouths meet. He tells himself he's not going to escalate this. He's going to keep it simple. No tongue.

But then he can't help himself. There is tongue. Lots of it – his and hers and they are tasting and exploring and learning each other. His hands are roaming and so are hers. He knows he should put a stop to this. He should push her away. He should say it's a mistake.

But it doesn't feel like a mistake.

They break apart only when they hear the sound of a shotgun being cocked nearby.

The woman holding the gun on them is young, maybe Charie's age… maybe younger. "Look at you, making out in the street like the dirty whore you clearly are." Shotgun Girl's eyes flash with something sinister. Bass steps in front of Charlie, instinctively moving to protect her.

Charlie nudges Bass with a frown, "Friend of yours?" she asks.

"Never saw her before in my life." Bass says. "I figured she was talking to you."

"He's right Charlie. I'm here for you." Shotgun Girl lifts her weapon.

"What's this about?" Bass asks, hoping to stall the crazy girl. He needs to get that gun away from her. At this range, if she shoots – they are both very dead.

"Yeah, I don't even know you." Charlie is suddenly quite sober. Sober and very scared.

"You want to know what this is about?" Shotgun Girl is angry. "That's easy. I watched you slash my brother's throat when you assholes attacked our camp a couple weeks ago."

"Oh shit." Bass says.

"No." Charlie is shaking her head, "You weren't at that camp. I would remember."

"I was there. I was back in the corner of the tent on a cot. I didn't feel well. My brother had gotten permission to leave his training to come check on me. When all the shooting started, he told me to hide. I pulled the blanket over my head and he was heading out to see if he could help when you and some guy came in. I laid there helpless while you killed him. I'm not helpless anymore."

"I didn't know you were there." Charlie says, her voice faltering. "We needed to stop the Patriots. What they were doing at that camp was terrible. We were trying to put a stop to that."

"Well you did stop it, but you also ruined my life. You destroyed my family. You took my brother from me, and…" Shotgun Girl chokes on a sob, "he never even got to meet his baby."

"You have got to be kidding me." Bass mutters.

"What?" Charlie is stunned. Her mind is spinning.

"His wife Sadie was pregnant when he died. Their baby was born yesterday – a sweet little girl." Shotgun Girl tries to blink away tears. "My niece will never know her daddy, thanks to you, Bitch."

"Oh shit." Bass says.

Shotgun Girl doesn't want to talk anymore; she begins to squeeze the trigger. A noise down the street distracts her. It's just a split second, but it gives Bass the opening he needs. He shoves the gun up just as it goes off, shooting into the sky. Shotgun Girl is pissed and she growls at him, trying to get a hand hold on the gun again. Bass is too strong. She doesn't have a chance, and realizes it quickly.

By the time a Willoughby deputy runs up, Bass has Shotgun Girl face down on the ground. Her gun is lying off to one side out of reach. She's pinned but she's still yelling at Charlie, "You ruined my family. Benji was my brother and my best friend. He was going to be a Dad. You killed him. Now Benji is gone. He's GONE!" Shotgun Girl is sobbing.

Charlie sits down on the ground hard, her legs buckling beneath her. "His name was Benji?" she asks in a whisper.

"Oh shit." Bass says.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2: On the Road Again… Just Can't Wait to Get on the Road Again…

It's been a month since Bass and Charlie's impromptu make-out session had been interrupted by Shotgun Girl. After the dust had settled and the crazy girl had been carted off to jail; Bass had waited.

He had waited for her.

He thought Charlie might reach out to him. He thought maybe she'd say it hadn't been a mistake. He thought she'd say she was ready to really talk. He thought maybe she might have realized that they weren't so different after all.

He was wrong. She hasn't sought him out. She hasn't tried to talk. Every time he's gone by her place, she won't let him in. When he goes to see her at work, she says she's busy. She's not being mean about it exactly. She chats and even flirts a little, but when it comes to anything meaningful, Charlie is pretending that night never happened.

Bass is beyond frustrated. He wishes he could also pretend that night never happened, but he can't. Now that he knows Charlie feels something for him, he has a new hope that he'd never expected. Knowing what it feels like to hold her close and kiss her has given him a yearning for more. He can't stop thinking about her and he's not going to give up.

He needs to come up with a plan.

xxxxxx

Bass sighs. He has a lot on his mind and is in no mood to be summoned by Frank Blanchard, but that's what has happened. He gets to Blanchard's office and is surprised to see Miles is there before him. Clearly they are in the middle of something.

"Want me to come back later?"

Miles shakes his head, "No. Sit. We need to talk." Miles looks tired.

"Okay." There are two visitor's chairs that face Blanchard. Miles is sitting in one. Bass settles into the other. "What's up?" He looks at Blanchard, who is sitting behind an old oak desk. A giant Texas flag hangs on the wall behind him.

Frank takes a deep breath, "Well Monroe, there's no need to beat around the bush. You know I have a kid, right?" He raises one brow in question.

Bass tries, and fails, to hide a smirk. "Yeah, Frank. I've met Junior. "Bass then looks over at Miles and sees his friend is also trying not to laugh. "Miles and I had a bit of a run in with him in a casino several years back." Bass pauses, trying to compose himself, "He's a unique fella."

Blanchard is rubbing his temples, "Of course you met him in a casino." He shakes his head ruefully, "The kid has a pretty serious gambling problem. He's in it up to his neck at the moment. That's really what caused all this mess to begin with."

Bass looks back and forth from Miles to Blanchard. "I don't get it. I'm sorry your kid likes to gamble or whatever, but what kind of mess did he get into, and what does it have to do with us?"

Miles frowns at Bass, "Not us. You." He leans back in his chair, "Texas has asked me to lead an ambassador trip to Mexico. I'll be gone for the next couple months. I can't help Frank personally, but when he mentioned that he could use a hand, I suggested you."

Bass doesn't look very excited, "What is it you actually need help with Frank?"

"We need to track Junior down and get something from him. He took some things from my office when he visited me last week. He is probably planning to sell these things to the god damned Patriots."

"What did he steal?" Bass asks, leaning forward, curious.

"A list of Ranger names and addresses. With that list, the Patriots can go door to door and kill us all." Blanchard looks pained.

"Damn. Nice kid ya got there Frank." Bass is thoughtful. "What are you not telling me? It feels like that's only half the story."

"Well," Miles answers, "The list doesn't just include Rangers. Friends and allies are on it too." He waits for a moment. "We're on it Bass. So is Charlie."

Bass feels a chill. "Where's he at?"

Blanchard exhales, relieved to see that Bass seems to be on board, "He's in New Vegas."

"All right." Bass says, standing up, "Let's go now."

"Go where?" Charlie asks as she walks into Blanchard's office. "Sorry I'm late. What did I miss?"

Bass sits back in his chair slowly. "What's going on Miles? Why is she here?"

Well, the thing with Junior is really only half of it. Turns out that crazy girl who wanted to kill Charlie had a plan B."

"What kind of Plan B?" Bass asks.

"This kind." Miles hands a piece of paper to Bass. "She filed a formal complaint with the Patriots. Now they know exactly who was involved in the raid on their re-education camp, and they're pissed." The paper Miles hands Bass is a bounty. Not only does it clearly state that Charlie is wanted for murder, there's also a passable sketch of her featured in the center. The reward is fifty diamonds. Bass's eyes are drawn to the pencil sketch of Charlie. Whoever had drawn it had done a good job.

"So this is bad." Bass is rubbing his chin, deep in thought, staring at the poster.

"Let me see that." Charlie grabs the paper from Bass. "Shit." She says after looking it over.

"Yeah, and there's more." Miles says. "There are bounties for Bass and Connor as well." He hands bass two similar posters. Again the bounty is fifty diamonds each. Bass is disconcerted to see a sketch of himself. The artist has made him look old. Bass moves on to the final poster and his heart clenches at the sight of his son. He wishes he knew if Connor was all right, but there's been no word.

"This is bad." Bass says again.

Charlie rolls her eyes, "This is not that big of a deal. We've dealt with bounties before."

"It is a big fucking deal, Charlie." He points to the bottom of the posters where the words 'dead or alive' are printed. "What I want to know Miles, is why you're sending me to New Vegas when I should be here helping protect Charlie?"

Charlie crosses her eyes and grunts, "I don't need your protection."

Miles shakes his head, "No Bass. You've got it all wrong. All three of you," he points in turn to Frank, Bass and Charlie, "are going to New Vegas. You'll get the damned list back from Junior, and lay low for a bit. I'd take her to Mexico with me, but the old cartels do all the bounty hunting down there, and I don't want her anywhere near those psychos."

"Why can't you just go get your fool kid on your own Frank?" Bass asks, worried about putting Charlie into harm's way with an unnecessary road trip.

"Well Monroe, that's easy. Gambling addiction runs in my family. If I go alone, there's a decent chance I'll get distracted or into some trouble myself." He shrugs sheepishly. "I can't go alone, but on the other hand you'll need me to help find Junior. I know exactly the kinds of places that boy might frequent."

"But…" Charlie starts.

Miles stands up, pointing at Bass and then Charlie, "No buts. We need both of you to get out of Willoughby for a while. Hopefully this bounty crap will blow over quickly, but you know anyone looking for either of you will come here first, so you gotta go. Blanchard's dumbass son needs to be stopped before he sells that damned list to the Patriots, and Blanchard can't be trusted to go to New Vegas by himself." Miles smirks, "Two birds, one stone. See?"

"No, I don't see." Charlie is angry. "I don't want to go to New Vegas with these two idiots."

"I am not an idiot." Bass mutters, not meeting her eyes.

"Here's the thing Charlie," Miles says, "I'm done with caring what you want. This is for your own good. You are in danger here and I want you to be safe. Bass is the best guy for the job, got it?"

"Whatever." Charlie says, seeing she's not going to win this.

Miles walks over and pulls Charlie into a hug. "Take care of yourself. Stay out of trouble and take care of Bass too, okay?"

She nods. "I'll try. See you in a couple months?"

"Yeah, Bass will know where to meet. Just stick with him."

Charlie gives Miles a kiss on the cheek. "Bye Miles." Then she turns and walks out of Blanchard's office.

"Hey Bass."

"Yeah?"

"Watch out for Charlie, all right? Don't let anything happen to her."

"You know I'll take care of her. I always do." He pats his oldest friend on the back. "You take care yourself."

"Oh I will. See you in a couple months. You know the place. Now go after her. Make sure she packs and that you are both ready to go. Come back to the office with your things. The wagon will be waiting in an hour."

Bass looks at his friend and shrugs, "Hope you know what you're doing Brother. The first time Charlie and I were both in New Vegas she tried to kill me. The last time we were there together… well, let's just say things didn't go as planned."

Blanchard grins and wobbles his eye brows suggestively, "Maybe third time's a charm, eh Monroe?"

Bass clears his throat, choosing to ignore Blanchard's implication, "Well, I'm gonna go catch up with her. See ya later Miles."

As the door shuts behind Bass, Frank leans back in his chair with a big grin. "You know about them two, don't ya Miles?"

"Know what Frank?"

"That when the girl with the shotgun found them, your best friend and your niece were making out on the side of the road like a couple of horny teenagers? That's the story going around anyway."

Miles settles back into the chair he'd occupied earlier, and smirks. "Yeah, I heard. Maybe this trip will force them to deal with whatever's going on there. Sick of both of em being so pissy all the damn time."

"You don't care?" Blanchard is amused by this.

"Not as long as it's something they both want." Miles shrugs, "Don't get me wrong Frank, if he hurts her I'll be the one with a shotgun, and I won't hesitate to blow him away. The thing is, Bass has changed. He's a lot more like the guy I remember from a long time ago, and THAT guy is a good guy for Charlie." He stands then. "You'd better pack up too. Gonna be time to go soon."

Frank nods, "Yeah, the wagon is pretty much ready, but I do need to get a few things together. Thanks for your help with all this, Miles."

"You're welcome. Now take good care of them both okay? And try to stay out of trouble."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Bass catches up with Charlie just as she's ascending the stairs to her second floor apartment. She sees him and shakes her head. "I don't need a damn babysitter. I can pack without help."

"I know. I just wanted to see your place. Probably would have, you know, seen it already if we hadn't been interrupted that night." Bass holds her gaze. She's trying to act indifferent, but he sees the jolt of awareness in her eyes. He smiles. Maybe this stupid road trip with Blanchard won't be so bad after all.

"Wishful thinking Monroe."

"Says the girl who couldn't take her hand off my dick in the bar. Yeah, wishful thinking indeed."

"I was drunk." She crosses her arms, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Very drunk."

"Yeah, well it's been my experience that being drunk doesn't turn you into a new person. It just loosens you up so that you are able to go after whatever it is you really want." Bass takes a couple steps closer. "Seems like maybe what you really want is right here." Bass reaches out and brushes a stray strand of hair out of her face. "Seems like maybe what you really want is me."

She pushes at his chest, but without much force. "I need to get my stuff together. You do too. I'll see you when it's time to go." She turns then and heads to her bedroom.

He follows.

"What are you doing?" Charlie's brow furrows with frustration.

Bass walks past her and sits on her bed. He bounces up and down with a grin, as if testing it. "Yeah, I can work with this."

Charlie tries to scowl, but his expression is contagious and she smirks. "Well, I don't drink anymore, so enjoy these brief moments in my bed. They will be your last."

Bass stands and moves to leave the room. He stops in front of her, close enough that she can feel his breath on her cheek. "We'll see about that Charlie. We'll see."

"Get out." She tries to sound irritated, but fails. He's laughing as he lets himself out the front door.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Bass is the first to get back to Blanchard's office. The wagon is ready, piled with boxes and bags. Bass leans over the side to toss his bedroll and small pack in. When he sees the contents of the wagon, he chuckles.

"What's so funny?" Frank asks as he approaches.

"You have a mattress back here." Bass points with a surprised laugh. "Not a big fan of roughing it, I guess?"

"I am old and set in my ways." Blanchard grins, "And none of my ways include sleeping on the damn ground."

Frank is watching Bass carefully, "So what's the deal with you and Miles's niece? Anything I should know about before we all drive off into the sunset together?"

Bass stiffens, "Like what?"

"Like am I going to need to be on the lookout for socks hanging on tree branches every time we break for camp?" Blanchard cackles like the old pervert he is.

Bass just shakes his head with a wary chuckle. "You got it all wrong, Frank. Charlie and I are just friends."

"Don't kid a kidder, Monroe. Everybody has heard about what you two were up to when that girl went after Charlie." He shakes his head, "I got lots of friends, but I don't stick my tongue down their throats unless I'm hoping they will be a lot more than my friend."

"Don't get me wrong Frank, I'd love to be more than friends with Charlie but she isn't interested. She's made that very clear…" Bass glances over at the older man, "Wait. What do you mean Everybody knows?"

"Everybody, Monroe. There was a bunch of people just down the street that saw it all – start to finish. Not much of anything happens around here these days, so word spread fast."

"Fuck. Do you think Miles knows?"

"Yep. We talked about it this morning. He said he's sick of you two being grouchy and hopes you work your shit out."

Bass is stunned. "He said that?"

Blanchard nods, "Yep. I think he's okay with the idea of you two being together as long as you don't hurt her."

"Un-fucking-believable" Bass mutters. "Now if only I can get her to think it's a good idea."

"From the sounds of things, she thought it was a pretty good idea until that girl tried to kill her."

Bass shakes his head, "She was drunk. Told me she only likes me when she's drunk. Now she says she doesn't drink anymore. I'm screwed."

Frank laughs, "Nah, you aren't screwed. Not yet anyway." He waggles his eye brows again, "I think what you need to do is launch a charm offensive – lay it on thick. Some part of her does like you or being drunk wouldn't have made a difference. Show her why she needs to give you a chance."

"It won't work. I tried the charming flirty routine today. She wasn't having any of it. What sucks the most is I never figured I even had a chance, but after that night… I don't know Frank. I just can't get her out of my head."

"Ah hell, this all sounds like the beginning of a mushy love story, and I love a good romance as much as anybody. I'll do what I can to help while we're on the road."

"I'll manage just fine Frank, but thanks."

They see Charlie approaching then, and Bass struggles to breathe. "Damn" he says simply, unable to tear his eyes away from her. Charlie is wearing tight black pants and a blue tank top. The top is shorter and lower cut than the ones she usually wears which means a whole lot of Charlie is on display. Her chain belt clangs softly with every step.

"You're staring." She says as she tosses her things into the back.

"Uh, sorry." Bass says, flustered. "You look nice."

"Thanks, I think." She replies with a little smile.

Charlie starts to climb into the bed of the wagon, but Blanchard stops her. "Nope, you are riding up there Darlin. I'm gonna lie in the back and take a siesta."

"Wow." Charlie says as she sits next to Bass. "Here we are, on our way to New Vegas again. Feeling the déjà vu Monroe?"

"Nope." Bass says, though in truth he feels it too.

"Hey Frank," Charlie asks, turning around to watch him, "What's with the mattress?"

"I like to be comfortable Sweetie. Listen there was only room for the one mattress, but I'm a nice guy. I'm happy to share if you want to join me." Blanchard offers with a wink.

Charlie shakes her head, smirking, "Thanks Frank. I'll keep that in mind."

Bass is scowling as he flicks the reins to urge the horses forward. "By god Charlie…. if you sleep with Frank Blanchard, I'm never ever going to New Vegas with you again."

Charlie bursts out laughing, and her body shakes with it. When she's finally able to compose herself, she leans toward Bass, "You still think I picked the wrong Monroe last time?" Her words are light, but her gaze is dark.

When he replies, his voice holds an edge. "Should have been me Charlie. You know it. I know it. Connor knew it too." The horses are speeding up, "Only one Monroe this time. Maybe having fewer options will help you focus."

She frowns at him, "You're assuming a lot. Maybe I'm done with all Monroes?"

His eyes bore into hers, "Or maybe you saved the best one for last?"

Their eyes lock in silence. After a moment they hear a chortle from the back of the wagon. Blanchard is grinning, "Oh hell, this is gonna be fun."

**Author's Note: Thanks to all who are reading this. A special thanks to IceonFire7 for reviewing and giving me some great insight (as always). Leave a comment if you have a moment.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So this is the first chapter where that M rating becomes necessary… You know what I mean. ;)**

Part 3: I Can't Live… With or Without You

Charlie, Bass and Frank Blanchard are just outside of the Willoughby town limits, heading west.

"What do you mean, four weeks?" Charlie asks Frank.

He looks at her oddly, "It'll take us about a month to get to New Vegas. That's what I mean."

She's shaking her head, "No way. I've been there twice before. It takes closer to six weeks."

"Not anymore." Bass says.

"And why is that exactly? Did you build a time machine?"

Bass shakes his head, "Don't need a time machine Charlie. New Vegas is closer than it used to be."

"What the hell does that even mean?" she asks.

Blanchard sighs, "They pulled up stakes after the Page Clan Massacre and moved farther south and east."

Bass's smile is gone now, "It's a gypsy city Charlie. They move whenever they feel the need. Every few years or so. It won't feel quite as settled as it was in the old location. They've only been in this new spot for a few months."

"It actually wouldn't even take us four weeks if we didn't have to avoid the main roads. This bounty problem you two have means we had to come up with a route that isn't very direct." Blanchard frowns.

Charlie nods slowly. "Okay, I guess that's good news really. Four weeks isn't all that long. How much could even happen in four weeks?"

**Moments from Week One**

The first few days are fairly uneventful. Blanchard tells stories of his misspent youth. Bass tries to flirt with Charlie. She mostly ignores them both. On the evening of the third day, Bass and Blanchard are sitting by the fire. Charlie is off hunting for their dinner. An unseasonable cold front is passing through and the night is brisk.

"Getting pretty chilly." Bass says.

"Yeah it is." The old man nods thoughtfully. "You want to use my tent tonight?"

"You brought a tent?"

"Sure." Frank laughs, "I like the back of the wagon just fine, but I wanted to keep my options open so I brought an old pup tent too. Might be just the right size for two people who need to stay warm at the same time." He waggles his eye brows and Bass just shakes his head.

"Yeah, she's rather freeze to death than share a tent with me."

"Says who?" Charlie asks, coming up from behind with a squirrel dangling from one hand. Her teeth are chattering. "I'm not going to share your bedroll Monroe, but if there's room for both of us, I'd share your tent."

Xxxxxxxxxx

The tent is small but big enough that they have room to stretch out their bedrolls side by side with maybe a foot of exposed ground separating them. It is close quarters to be sure, but being out of the wind is a true blessing. The night is full and dark. The wind howls around their refuge.

"Are you awake?" he asks.

"Nope." She answers.

"I can't sleep." He leans up on one elbow. The tent is dark, but he trains his eyes on the space where he thinks her face should be.

"My guess would be it's because of all the talking. Shut up and you'll drift right off."

He sits all the way up then and reaches for his pack, pulling out a flask. He takes a deep drink and enjoys the heat that settles in his gut. "Want a drink?"

"No. I want to sleep."

"It will warm you right up."

"So would setting myself on fire. I'm not doing that either."

He laughs and takes another drink. "Fine. Don't drink. You can lie there and listen to me get tipsy all by myself."

She grunts. He drinks quietly for a while. The flask is almost empty when he speaks again, "I'm sorry about what happened with that Shotgun Girl. I know it's not easy to face someone in that situation."

She rolls to her side, facing away from him. "I know you want to talk about that, and I get why. I'm just not ready, okay? I know I should probably forgive you, and maybe I will. I just haven't figured out how. You're going to have to give me some time."

This is actually more than he'd expected from her, and he feels hope from her words settle warmly just as the whisky had. "Okay." He says quietly. "Good night Charlie."

"Night Monroe."

Xxxxxxxxxx

They wake to the aroma of coffee and frying meat.

Charlie glances at Bass. He's watching her, his eyes still heavy with sleep. "So Frank can cook?" she asks with a stretch.

"Guess so." Bass answers, but he honestly isn't thinking about anything Blanchard can or cannot do. Instead he's thinking about the way Charlie's breasts shift under the fabric of her shirt when she stretches like that. His morning wood becomes impossibly more wooden and he groans.

"What's wrong?" she asks him.

"Nothing. You should go. I'll be out in a minute."

She looks at him oddly. "You're being weird. What's the deal?"

"Nothing. Just go!" he says, his voice now a little desperate. He can't pull his eyes away from her chest as he watches the cool air tease her nipples into tight little peaks under the thin shirt she wears.

Charlie sees where his gaze is focused and she frowns. "That's not very gentlemanly."

Bass has had enough. He pulls back the blanket cover of his bedroll showing how the soft pants he sleeps in are tented impressively. "You don't want to see how ungentlemanly things are going to get if you don't go now."

Charlie throws her head back and laughs, "Well, good morning! I didn't know we were sharing the tent with anyone else." She pointedly eyes his erection before leaving him. As the flap closes behind her, she says, "I'll just leave the two of you alone."

Xxxxxxxxxx

When Bass emerges later, he's grouchy. He grabs a cup of coffee and a chunk of the mystery meat Frank has prepared and stomps toward the woods.

"What's his problem?" Blanchard asks. He notices the way Charlie watches Monroe until he disappears into the tree line. That is not the face of a girl who doesn't care. Interesting, he thinks.

She just shrugs. "He woke up with a boner and was mad when I laughed."

Frank chokes on his coffee. "Charlie, you should know better. Never, ever laugh at a man's boner. Poor Monroe. He's going to need therapy now."

Charlie rolls her eyes, "I'm sure he'll survive. He has a really big…. ego. He can handle a little laughter…" she pauses and Frank sees her eyes go soft and hazy.

"Seems like his big ego isn't really what you're thinking about just now, eh?"

Charlie blushes furiously and sputters. "I'm going to start packing our things."

"Sounds like a plan." Blanchard chuckles.

Xxxxxxxxxx

They are traveling along what was once a highway, but now is little more than a litter strewn path. Occasionally they pass rusted out cars, abandoned long ago. Charlie is sitting next to Bass in the front of the wagon. Frank is in the back sleeping.

"I like that one." Charlie says pointing at an old car that might have been red before the blackout. The frame is rusted, and a tree is growing through the busted windshield, but the car is still easy for Bass to identify.

"Good eye. That's a Ford Mustang. I had one myself a long time ago. Mine was blue though. I called her Stella and she was a powerful car. Very fun to drive."

"You know what's weird?" Charlie asks, her voice quiet. "I don't really remember riding in cars."

Bass looks at her for a moment, "Sometimes I forget how young you were when everything changed."

She nods, "I do remember riding with Miles in his car when I was pretty little, and I remember Dad renting a van for vacation one year. That's it." Charlie sighs. "Sometimes I just wish I could ride in a car just once, or that I remembered it more, I guess. That's stupid, isn't it?"

"No. It's not stupid." He's quiet for a while. "Want me to take you for a drive?"

"I don't know a lot about cars, but I'm pretty sure the tree growing through the middle of it might slow us down."

Bass chuckles, "You'll have to use your imagination Charlie. Close your eyes."

She looks at him warily at first, but eventually shrugs and complies.

"Okay Charlie. I want you to picture this road without the overgrowth and the rusted out cars. It's just a long ribbon of smooth charcoal grey. Down the center is a dotted line. It's painted yellow and it separates us from oncoming traffic. You still with me?"

She smiles, eyes still closed. "Yeah."

"We're in that car you saw, except she's as red as a perfectly ripe apple. The frame isn't rusted or dented. The glass in her windows is clear and sparkling. The leather seats we're sitting on are smooth and supple. She's in perfect shape. Her motor hums."

"What does a motor humming sound like?" she asks.

Like this. He pauses before making a low throaty growl.

The motor sound warms Charlie from the inside out. "Oh" she says softly.

"As we drive along, I'll accelerate because the Mustang is a fast car, and you have to drive it fast. That's the way she likes it." Charlie can hear the grin in his voice. "Every time I change gears, the sound will change like this." Again he's making some throaty noise, but now it changes pitch.

Damn, his voice is sexy. Charlie shifts a little in her seat, feeling a level of arousal she never would have expected from a car fantasy, not that she ever thought she'd be experiencing one before today.

"Now the other sound you would hear if you were riding with me would be the stereo. I loved playing classic rock kind of loud when I would drive around, but not so loud that it would drown out the purr of the engine." He sounds wistful.

Charlie opens her eyes and looks at him. His are already on her.

"You wish you could ride in a car. I wish I could turn on a radio and hear Robert Plant's voice just one more time. Recorded music. That's what I miss the most."

She smiles at him. "So what would we do next? On this drive of ours, where you are speeding down the highway with the music playing?"

His smile morphs into a smirk, "Well Charlie, if I was cruising around with a beautiful lady such as yourself, chances are I'd probably reach over and do this." And before Charlie actually knows what's happening, she feels Bass's hand on her thigh. His touch is warm and firm and she sucks in a quick breath as the contact sends a shiver right to her core. Their eyes hold. He does not move his hand.

"Well." She says, her voice raspy.

Just then Frank Blanchard pops up from the back. "Do I need to drive for a while so you two can make out in the backseat?" he cackles at his own little joke. Bass pulls his hand away from Charlie and they both face forward.

"No Frank. We're good." Bass says with a frown, but of course the reality is that's exactly what he wants to do.

**Moments from Week Two**

The unusual cold weather is holding steady. Bass and Charlie remain very thankful to Frank for sharing his tent with them. They have gotten used to sleeping in the small space, though some nights getting to sleep is more difficult than others.

"You awake?" he asks her.

"No. I'm sound asleep."

"Why don't you ever just say yes?"

"Are we still talking about you asking me if I'm asleep?"

Bass chuckles, "Yeah, Charlie."

"I guess I like to be difficult. It's part of my charm."

"Well, you do have a lot of that."

Charlie sighs, "I give up. What do you want?"

"Just to talk. Do you know what this weather reminds me of?"

"Frostbite?"

"No Charlie." Bass is laughing now, "Football season. Do you remember football?"

"Of course. Dad was a big Bears fan. We had season tickets. I didn't go much, but Danny did."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know what?" Charlie sits up. The moonlight shines weirdly through the thin fabric of the tent. She can see his face, but just barely.

"Miles and I went to a game with Ben and Danny once."

Charlie feels her heart lurch, "You did?"

"Yeah, we were on leave, and we were supposed to meet up with some girls but that plan fell through." Bass looks at her with a guilty little smile.

She just shrugs. "Go on."

"Well," he continues, "We drove to Chicago instead and your Dad said that you and your Mom weren't going to use your tickets, so Miles and I tagged along with the two of them. It was a good game. The Bears were playing the Packers, and the fans were really into it." He smiles at the memory. "Danny was sitting by me. He was a cute kid… but very ornery. There was this fat guy sitting two rows in front of us. He was shirtless and had painted his body with blue and orange paint. Danny kept throwing popcorn at him. The guy kept turning around glaring. Every time he looked back at us, Danny would just point at me and giggle. I was pretty sure I was going to have to fight the guy, but when the Bears won he sort of forgot about us."

"When was this?"

"I don't remember. Danny was really little."

"I didn't know you knew them." Charlie wraps her blanket tightly around her shoulders. Thinking about her Dad and Brother has her almost in tears.

"Well, I only met Danny that one time before Neville brought him to Philly. I knew your Dad though Charlie. Hell, I was over at their house every day starting when Miles and I first became friends in kindergarten. Ben was older than us, but he was always there. We got along really well."

Charlie takes a deep breath, trying to settle her emotions. "I didn't know." She says again.

Bass crawls over to sit next to her. "I really never wanted your Dad to be hurt. I never wanted Danny to be hurt either. It was all bad. Everything that could go wrong did. I was in a bad place. That's not an excuse. It's just the way it was. I regret all of it more than I can ever tell you."

He hears her start to cry and he reaches out a hand, resting it on her shoulder. She stiffens and he almost pulls away but then she turns to him and she's in his arms. Bass holds her while she cries into his neck, stroking her hair. "I'm so sorry." He murmurs over and over.

Eventually, she quiets down. Her breathing evens out and he can tell she's over the worst of it.

"You okay?" he asks in a whisper.

She nods slowly, "Yeah, I think so."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. I just want to sleep."

Bass starts to pull away from her so that he can return to his side of the tent, but she grabs hold of his shirt and brings him closer. "I'm not quite ready to forgive you Monroe, but I don't want to feel alone."

"Okay. What can I do?" he asks.

"Would you just hold me for a while? Please."

Xxxxxxxxxx

When Bass opens his eyes the next morning, they are lying on their sides, fully clothed, and facing each other. Charlie is still wrapped in his arms, snoring softly. He can hear the wind blowing around their camp, but he's never felt warmer or more content. Charlie is soft and her curves fit perfectly against the hard edges of his body. Bass's face is buried in her hair and he doesn't ever want to move. He doesn't want to move until she shifts against him and he is suddenly reminded of the one thing he wants to do even more than hold her. Things only get worse as she snuggles closer, one hand curving against his lower back, the other gently cupping his ass. He can tell by her breathing that she's still asleep. He has to wake her or this is just going to get more awkward… assuming that's even possible.

He leans in close, pressing his lips to her ear. "Charlie, time to wake up." She purrs against him and he groans. She needs to wake up now. He bites lightly on her ear, before again saying, "Charlie, time to wake up." Charlie moves again, turning her face so that her lips are now dangerously close to his, but her eyes remain shut.

Clearly, drastic action is needed. He sighs before pressing his lips against hers, kissing her awake. He knows the moment she becomes aware. She stiffens in his arms. He's ready to pull away when she begins to kiss him back. Bass isn't sure what's happening, but it feels so good that he doesn't even consider stopping it. Their lips part in unspoken agreement and tongues begin to touch and probe. The kiss is soft at first and then more urgent.

Abruptly she pushes him away. They are both breathing raggedly through swollen lips. "I'm sorry but I'm not ready for that yet." She says.

He moves to his side of the tent and rubs his jaw with one hand. "It's okay."

"No, it's not. I don't mean to be a tease. I really don't. I want to forgive you and I'm working on it." She frowns. "Actually I think part of me has already forgiven you."

"Which part is that?" he asks, confused.

"The bottom part." She says with a shaky little smile before grabbing her things and exiting the tent.

Bass can't help but laugh. Taking it slow like this is rough, but he's hopeful that things will fall into place soon...

Xxxxxxxxxx

Bass and Blanchard are leaning against the wagon. It is dusk and the cold had finally given way to a beautiful Indian summer day. Charlie has gone into the woods in search of some game. Frank looks at Bass curiously, "So, what's the deal with you two? Seems like you're getting pretty chummy."

Bass shrugs, "Hell, I don't know Blanchard. She blames me for a lot of stuff. Some of it is totally my fault. She's trying to forgive me and it's not an easy thing for her to do."

Blanchard takes a pull from a small flask, "Well, seems to me she's getting there. When you aren't looking, she can't keep her eyes off of ya."

Bass cocks an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Oh yeah, really." Frank chuckles, "She seems to spend a lot of time lost in her own thoughts. Maybe it's time you stopped all that thinkin' with some action?"

Bass is curious, "Seems like you have a plan. What is it?"

"Well, it has been a nice warm day…"

"Yeah."

"And we are just a hundred yards or so from a river..."

"Yeah."

"And you could probably use a swim..."

"Yeah."

"And maybe I'd tell her you went in another direction but actually send her your way, and maybe you could surprise her a little bit… you know, give her something to look at." Frank trails off with a cackle as the smile on Bass's face grows wide.

"Maybe Frank. Maybe."

Xxxxxxxxxx

Charlie kills two rabbits, dresses them and puts them in the pan Frank has prepared. She looks down at her bloody hands and sighs.

"You know…" Frank says from where he's lounging against a nearby tree. "I can take care of the food. Why don't you take advantage of this warm day and go clean up in the river?"

She hesitates for a moment, just looking at Blanchard. "Where's Monroe?" she finally asks.

"Went to do the same. Headed north."

Charlie nods. "Okay, maybe I will do that." She pulls her pack from the wagon and heads south. Blanchard grins as he watches her walk away.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Bass is waist deep in the water behind an outcropping of rocks. His back is to the shore as he runs a cake of lye soap over his body. It feels so damn good to wash off all the layers of grime and filth that have accumulated. He's relishing the feel of clean skin when he hears a splash from the other side of the rocks.

Bass smiles. Damn. Blanchard's little plan worked. He finishes washing quickly, and then slowly makes his way through the water toward the rocks. He leans around them and looks for her. The moonlight is casting a silvery glow upon the river. He doesn't see her at first. The water is smooth and unbroken. She appears then, breaking through the surface of the water, dripping wet and very, very naked.

"Sweet Jesus." He mutters as his cock begins to grow.

The water laps lazily at the curve of her hips as she runs her hands along her shoulders and up and down her arms, trying to rinse her skin with water alone. She does the same to her breasts, washing them with her fingers. Bass groans. This is torture.

He takes a few steps, moving around the edge of the rocks. She glances over and sees him. A momentary expression of shock and fear is replaced by wariness. "Thought you went the other way?" she asks, not even bothering to cover herself. At this point, he's clearly seen everything on display anyway.

"Nope." Bass answers, moving closer, his eyes glued to her perfect breasts. As he watches, her nipples tighten into hard little pebbles. He tears his gaze away, moving closer still, his eyes now on hers. "I came this way."

Now only a few feet separate them. "What do you want?" she can't help the tremor in her voice.

"Thought you might like some soap?" He offers her the bar he's been using.

Charlie eyes Bass curiously for a moment, and then takes the soap from him, "Thanks." She turns her back to him and begins to wash.

He watches her move the soap along the contours of her body. He is mesmerized by the taut muscles of her back that bunch and move under smooth skin. Bass's breath catches in his throat. He can't tear his eyes away from her. "Let me help with your hair." He says in a hoarse whisper, reaching to retrieve the soap he'd just handed her. Charlie hesitates, but gives it to him. He builds some lather in his hands and works it slowly into her long curls.

The feel of his fingers on her scalp is amazing and Charlie moves closer without even meaning to do so. She is simply soaking up the sensation of Bass washing her hair. It is heavenly. His hands are strong and his fingers are working magic across her scalp. She hears a throaty sound, and is surprised to discover that it's coming from her. She feels the tension that is coiling deep in her belly. With every move of his hands, the feeling intensifies.

Bass hears it – Charlie's husky little groan. Whatever control he'd had up to this point, snaps. Her hair is still soapy and he doesn't care. Grasping her shoulders, Bass pulls her back against his chest. His cock is hard between them. He leans in and kisses her neck, hands snaking around to grasp her breasts, testing the weight of them in his palms.

She tilts her head so that their mouths can meet and the resulting kiss sends shockwaves through Bass's body. His dick throbs with need as she presses back against him. The kiss is hot and needy. Tongues tangle and teeth clash. Bass grasps her shoulders and turns her to face him. His eyes sparkle in the moonlight and he leans in to kiss her again.

She presses her hands against the hard flesh of his chest, and frowns. Then, she pushes him – hard, and he loses his balance, falling back into the water with a loud splash. Coming up sputtering, he watches as she emerges from under the water twenty feet away. Hair now rinsed, she looks at him before wading to shore, water sluicing down her perfect naked body.

"Charlotte!" he roars, "Come back here."

"No." She doesn't even turn around. "I'm not ready. I told you that."

Bass moves as quickly as he can through the water, following her onto the bank. "You know what, Charlie?" he pauses, waiting for her to turn and face him. She does, and he notes that she is struggling to keep her gaze from wandering down. "For someone who claims not to be ready, your body sure tells a different story."

Charlie shrugs. "Yeah, I'm attracted to you Monroe. I don't know why, but I am. That doesn't change the fact that I still have issues with things you've done. Okay?"

"If you aren't ready, why were you kissing me? Why were you letting me touch you?"

"I don't know." She looks frustrated and confused.

Bass walks to her purposefully, until they are toe to toe. She is hyper aware of his lean muscled body and his still hard cock. He is beautiful. There is no other way to describe him. She tries to focus, but it's difficult with both of them naked, wet, and aroused. He's looking at her intently; his mouth is set in a tight line.

"Well, now you'll have time to figure it out. All the time you need." Bass sounds suddenly tired.

"What does that mean?"

"I'm too old for this high school bullshit, Charlie. You know how I feel about you. I think you feel the same way about me, but I'm not going to put myself out there just so you can kick me down over and over. Not anymore. When you have worked through the stuff you need to work through, you can come to me. The next move is yours. I don't know how many more times I can tell you I'm sorry for all the stuff I did. It's up to you now. Decide if you can forgive me or not. I'll wait around for a while." He takes a deep breath, releasing it with a sigh as he reaches out to touch her cheek softly. "But not forever, Charlie. I'm not gonna wait forever." He turns from her then, following the shore upstream until he reaches the place where he'd left his clothes earlier.

Charlie watches Bass dress. Her heart is heavy. When he walks into the woods toward camp without turning her way again, her chest tightens. She pulls on her clothes with jerky motions. Why does everything have to be so complicated? Picking up her things, she heads back to camp.

When she gets there, she sees Blanchard leaning against the same tree as before. He appears to be asleep. Monroe is stoking the fire. She walks up behind him and waits for him to acknowledge her. He doesn't. Eventually she says, "Can we talk?"

"Don't see the point." He says simply. He stands and walks to their tent. She's starting to follow him when she sees him emerge moments later, bedroll in hand. "Tonight is warmer. I'll just sleep outside." He doesn't meet her gaze. His eyes are closed off. His voice is civil but devoid of emotion. He walks past Charlie and sets his things in an open space near the fire.

Bass arranges his bedroll and lies down. He closes his eyes, aware that she's watching, but his ego is too bruised to let her know it matters. She stares at him for a long time. Finally he looks at her. "What?"

"I just… I wanted to say… I'm sorry or whatever… I wish I was ready…"

Monroe interrupts her rambling, pretending not to have heard her words, "There's some meat left. It's still in the pan. You should eat." He rolls over then, with his back to her. She understands. He doesn't want to talk to her. Not now.

Charlie walks to the pan and pulls out two shriveled strips of fried rabbit. She carries them to the tent. It suddenly feels very empty and Charlie feels very alone. She eats quickly before settling in for the night. Lying on top of her bedroll, she stares at the roof of the tent, lost in thought.

Charlie thinks about Danny and her Dad. She wonders what they would say about this situation she finds herself in. Would they blame Monroe? Would they forgive him? Would they be appalled that she is even considering some kind of relationship with him? She thinks about Benji, the man she'd killed whose sister had confronted her with a need for revenge. She thinks about all the other men (and a few women) who have died at Charlie's hand. The guilt is all consuming. It crushes into her and sometimes she doesn't think she can breathe with the weight of it.

Is this how Monroe feels? Is this what he carries around with him every day? She's killed a lot of people, but he has so much more blood on his hands. Does he even still feel guilty, or has he found a way to move on?

And what of the others? Her parents practically caused the blackout, which led to the deaths of millions. Miles was a ruthless leader, no better than Monroe. Aaron helped Rachel turn the power back on, which led to the nukes dropping. So much death caused by the people who have meant the most to her. Charlie wonders if any of them deserves forgiveness – herself included. She wonders if they need it before they can get on with their lives, or if searching for it is nothing more than an epic waste of time. She wonders if she'll figure any of this out before it's too late.

Monroe has made it clear… he won't wait around forever.

**A/N #2: I'm enjoying this little story. Hope you are too. Leave a comment if you have a moment. Big thanks to Ice for previewing & catching a huge error I'd made in my first draft as well as giving me some great feedback on one of the Bass/Charlie convos! **

**FYI… I'm working on the next chapter of Sins now… **


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4: Can't Stop This Thing We Started

**Moments from Week Three**

Later, Bass Monroe will think back and realize how very lucky they all were that Charlie had turned him down in the river a few nights earlier. If she hadn't, he'd surely have been inside the tent with her. And if he'd been with her in the tent, the chances are that he would have been so caught up in Charlie, he wouldn't have even noticed something was wrong in time to make a difference.

When it does happen, he's sitting under the shadow of a towering maple tree on the edge of camp where the darkness clings like pitch. Insomnia plagues him and all he's thinking is how much he wishes he wasn't out of booze. He wants a drink of whiskey more than anything right now – well more than almost anything, but he isn't going to dwell on that. He's remembering that Blanchard said they were less than a day's drive from the next town and a supply run, when he sees the movement.

Bass wonders for a moment if it's an optical illusion. The night is moonless and shadows abound. He's almost convinced himself it was nothing but his imagination when he hears the unmistakable click of a switchblade opening. Bass is on his feet instantly and creeping with great stealth toward the sound. He realizes in a heartbeat that whoever is here is just outside of Charlie's tent. Fear and intense protectiveness coil in him as he finally sees the intruder. The man is little more than a shadowy form, but Bass does take note of a few things. The man is bony and grey. He is wearing animal skins and smells like piss. In one skinny hand he is clutching a knife. In the other he holds a sawed off shotgun. Bass knows this man is a bounty hunter without asking. He doesn't wait to confirm his suspicion. That gun is far too close to Charlie, period. So in one smooth motion, Bass slices the bounty hunter's throat and stands back as the lifeless body crumples to the ground.

The zipper to the tent opens a mere second later, and Charlie emerges with her knife ready. Her body is tense until she sees Bass. She looks at him and then down at the dead man on the ground. "Damnit Monroe. Can't you ever just let me take care of myself?"

Bass's adrenaline is still pumping, and he glares at her. "Seriously? You're mad that I killed this son of a bitch before he could gut you like a little pig?"

She is frowning. "I heard him coming. I was waiting until he got in my tent and then I was going to take him out."

"What if he'd shot first, and asked questions later? What if he wasn't alone?"

She just shakes her head, "I could have handled it. I'm not helpless. I don't need you to save me."

"You are impossible!" he yells at her, his frustration (on so many levels) reaching a new high. "You want me to stop saving you? Here's the problem. I can't."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asks, eyes narrowed.

"I will never sit by while you are in danger." He runs a hand through his curls. "Never. Don't you get it? I would do anything to keep you safe."

"You kept your promise already. You can stop anytime now."

He looks at her blankly, "What?"

"I know you promised my Mom you wouldn't let anything happen to me. You kept your promise. Over and over. I think you can stop now."

Bass steps over the dead man right into Charlie's personal space. "Listen to me Charlie, because I'm only ever going to say this once. I hate your Mother. I hate her. I don't give a rat's ass about her opinions. I don't care what she thinks of me, or what she might have ever asked for. I have saved you because YOU are important to me. Even when you are being a stubborn idiot, I can't imagine this world without you in it. I don't think about your Mom ever, especially not when you are in trouble. "

Charlie sees the truth in his eyes. She opens her mouth, but in the end says nothing.

Frank walks up, "I hate to break up this touching moment, but let's bury this asshole and get on the road early. These bounty hunters don't usually travel alone."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The sun is rising as the travelers resume their journey to New Vegas. The wagon bumps along an old highway. Charlie and Bass ride in silence while Frank dozes in the back.

Finally Charlie speaks, "I'm sorry for before. I'm sorry I was being ungrateful."

Bass glances at her, but says nothing.

"Thanks for helping with that guy. Thanks for you know…saving me again."

"Anytime Charlie. Anytime."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later they break for lunch and Charlie finds herself alone with Frank while Bass scouts the road ahead. They've been fairly careless up till now on this little trip. After the mess with the bounty hunter, Bass has sworn not to make that mistake again.

"So, you sure don't cut him any slack, do ya Girlie?"

Charlie shrugs, "I don't know. Should I?"

"Well, it seems that he has a big old soft spot and it has your name written all over it. Maybe you should give him a chance to prove to you how much you mean to him?"

She sighs, "I get close sometimes… but then I start to think about my brother and my Dad and I get angry and I've blamed Monroe for so long, I don't know how to stop." Charlie kicks absently at some rocks on the ground.

"Maybe you're looking at it all wrong?"

"How so?"

"Maybe…" Frank smiles kindly, "You don't need to forgive him exactly. Maybe you just need to accept him for who he is and what he's done and see what happens. Not to be a jerk, but it's not like you haven't done your share of stupid ass shit, am I right?" He chuckles when she glares at him. "Hey, all I'm saying is maybe acceptance is first. Maybe forgiveness will come down the road."

They are silent for a few moments. Soon, Bass slides through an opening in the trees and makes his way toward them. Charlie can't help but stare as he walks their way. Even dusty and tired, he is a sight for sore eyes. She thinks about what Blanchard has said. "Maybe." She finally replies.

When Bass reaches them, he seems relaxed for the first time since the morning's excitement had occurred. "We're maybe a mile away from a little town. Not much there, but it has a store. There's a hotel and a little café. Several bars. We can stock up on supplies while we're in the area."

"Look friendly?" Blanchard asks.

Bass shrugs. "Seems to mostly be farmers and store keepers. Lots of kids running around. Didn't see any Patriots at all, not that I got too close."

"So what's our plan?" Charlie asks them.

Blanchard smiles, "I don't know about you two, but I smell like a garbage truck. I'm going to town, getting a room and a bath and then I'm going to find a big steak dinner and a whore… maybe a red head if they have one." He is whistling as he walks to the wagon and gets on. He glances over his shoulder, "Well, ya coming with me or not?"

"Well, we'll come to town with you," Charlie says with a smirk, "but I think we'll find our own entertainment."

Bass grins, "Sounds good to me."

Charlie rolls her eyes, "That is not what I meant at all, and you know it."

Bass and Charlie climb into the wagon with Frank. As the horses start to move, Bass leans close to Charlie, "Keep telling yourself that."

Xxxx

When they get to the little town they board the horses and wagon at the livery and walk to the town's hotel. Blanchard asks for three rooms.

"Make it two." Bass says.

"Why? You planning to join Blanchard later?" Charlie narrows her eyes at Monroe. "Cause I'm not staying with you."

"Yeah, you are." Bass's voice leaves no room for argument. "I can't watch out for you from a different room."

"I can manage just fine for one night." Charlie is glowering at him now.

The man behind the counter is looking from one to the other. "Excuse me." He finally says. When he has their attention, he continues, "Maybe this will help. We only have two rooms available."

"Shit." Charlie growls.

"Thank you Sir. We'll take em." Blanchard puts some diamonds on the counter and he takes the keys offered, handing one to Bass with a grin. "Here you go kids. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Frank is still laughing as he disappears up the stairs of the old building. Charlie looks at Bass warily. "Well, let's go see what it's like."

He follows behind her, trying not to stare at the way her ass moves with each step up she takes. Damn. This is going to be a long night.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They reach their room and Bass opens the door. He takes one look around and shakes his head before moving aside so Charlie can have a peek. He tenses a little because he knows she's not going to be happy.

Charlie shoulders past Monroe and looks around, "You have got to be kidding me." She mutters, disgusted. "What the hell is this place?"

Bass runs a hand through his hair, suddenly wishing there had been a third room. "I'm not sure exactly. It appears to be some kind of honeymoon suite…. Well, not a suite I guess. Its just the one room." The room is small. The walls are painted a very faint pink. There is one narrow bed which is covered in a red velvet duvet. Above the bed, a large red heart has been painted on the wall. A small table beside the bed is topped by an oil lamp, a stack of books and a vase of flowers. A straight back chair sits next to the lone window, which is open. Gauzy curtains move lazily with the evening breeze.

"These flowers are weird." Charlie says, touching a dusty petal.

"They're artificial Charlie."

"They're kind of creepy Monroe."

He shrugs, looking around some more. There is a big iron tub along the wall opposite the bed. Next to the tub is a basket of small round soaps and a table covered with white candles.

There is a knock on the door that startles them both. Bass answers it with his sword ready. He relaxes when the guy from the front desk comes in carrying a large bucket of steaming water. Two young boys follow behind. Each of them has a similar bucket in each hand. They proceed to the tub and pour all the water in.

"What's all this?" Bass asks.

"Complimentary bath, Sir. Enjoy" The boys leave and the desk guy is almost out the door when Bass stops him.

"Any chance someone could bring us a couple bottles of whiskey?" He holds out some diamonds which disappear in a flash.

"Yes, Sir." and then he is gone.

After their visitors have left, Charlie and Bass stare at the tub, and the steam now rising from it. They both feel disgusting from the road. "Ladies first." Bass says, but he doesn't leave.

"Uh, Monroe?"

"Yeah?"

"You're gonna have to go somewhere else."

"Nope. I'll just sit over there by the window and read."

Charlie crosses her arms, "No, you're going to leave."

Bass walks up to stand toe to toe to her. "We don't know this town. We don't know if there are people out there with our wanted posters in their back pockets. Okay? I won't watch you bathe. I am capable of self-control. For tonight we're just going to stay in this room and keep to ourselves."

She lets out a heavy sigh, "Fine go sit. If I see your eyes, I'll pluck them out."

"Fair enough." He drops his pack, shrugs out of his jacket and grabs a book. He moves the chair so that it faces the open window and takes a seat.

Charlie waits till he's settled before quickly stripping out of her dusty clothes and sliding into the hot water with a sigh. She watches him as she begins to wash. He has his back to her with a book open. She isn't sure if he's actually reading or not, but he is giving her the privacy she'd demanded. So, why is she aggravated?

"What are you reading?" she asks with a soft voice.

Without turning he answers, " A book called 'Romantic Readings from Children's Literature'."

"Uh, what?" she asks with a chuckle.

"Every book they have here is poetry or romance or collections of wedding readings. Sorry if my choice isn't up to your standards."

Charlie is quiet for a while, running the soap over wet skin. Being in the same room with him, naked, wet… it stirs feelings in her that she doesn't know how to handle. She watches him. He hasn't turned once.

The silence is too much. "So read me something, Monroe…"

Bass pauses for a while, but then says, "Okay." He flips through the pages until he finds something he likes and begins to read, _"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"_

_"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."_

_"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit._

_"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."_

_"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"_

_"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."_

Charlie is still, her soap forgotten. "I know that. It's from…"

"The Velveteen Rabbit." Bass says quietly.

"Yeah, my Dad used to read that to Danny and me when we were little…"

"I read it to my little sisters."

They don't speak for a while. Finally Charlie says, "Sometimes becoming whatever we're going to be does take a long time, doesn't it?"

"And sometimes it hurts." Bass's voice is quiet and sad. He still doesn't turn as Charlie finishes her bath.

He has been a gentleman the whole time.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later after they are both clean and clothed, there is a knock on the door. Once again Bass is at the ready with his sword, but when he opens the door only two bottles of whiskey are there to greet him.

Bass picks up the bottles, and kicks the door shut behind him. He sits on the chair again, opens a bottle and takes a deep drink. "Why'd you stop?"

"Stop what?" she asks. Charlie is sitting on the bed, propped against the headboard.

"Drinking? You're a Matheson. Mathesons drink."

"When I drink I tend to lose control. I don't want to lose control again…"

"What if I promise to keep my hands to myself even if you try to maul me? Cause Charlie, I swear you need a drink more than anybody. You've been strung pretty tight for weeks." He takes another deep drink, and tosses her the second bottle.

She holds it in her hand and just stares at it for a while. "You promise?"

"I promise."

She pulls off the lid and takes a sip. Closing her eyes as the whiskey warms from within, she smiles. "That is pretty good."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next morning Bass wakes slowly. He feels a moment of déjà vu. Once again they are waking wrapped in each other's arms. Once again they are fully clothed. But one thing is different.

She's not snoring.

"Charlie?" he asks with a whisper. "Are you awake?"

"Nope." She says, her voice faint. Instead of pulling away from him, which he expects, she snuggles closer. "But I think I'm ready to talk."

"About what?" he holds her closer, realizing that right now she wants to be held, but doesn't want to look into his eyes. It's okay. He'll take what he can get. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Shotgun Girl."

"Okay." Bass feels a hope stirring. This may be the turning point he's been waiting for. "Tell me what's on your mind."

"I" she falters for a moment. He rubs slow circles into her back, patiently waiting. Finally she forges on. "I don't know how you do it. I don't know why you do it."

"Do what?"

"Spend time with my family, with Miles."

"Miles is my brother. He's been my best friend for decades. He's my family too."

"Yeah, but…"

"No buts. He's family. And his family is my family. That's why I stick around. You guys are important to me." Bass hesitates then. "Except for your Mom. Sorry, but she's not my family."

Charlie is shaking her head against his chest. "That's not what I mean. I mean how can you stay with us when we have blamed you for so much? How can you handle the guilt?"

Bass doesn't answer right away. He closes his eyes and buries his face in Charlie's hair. After a while he says, "It's not easy. I've been tempted to leave many times, but it always comes down to what matters most to me."

"Miles?"

"Yeah Miles. But not just Miles." He kisses the top of her head then. The kiss is soft but brief.

"Not just Miles?"

"No."

Again silence prevails for a while as each are lost in thought. She breaks the silence, "I blamed you for so long for Danny and for my Dad."

"Yeah, I know."

"But then I did the same thing. I killed someone's Dad… someone's brother. How do I stay mad at you when that is on my conscience? How do I get over the guilt?"

"You won't get over it. The guilt might fade, but you'll be reminded and then it will be up in your head again and it will be hard to shake. I don't think there's a magic cure. At some point you may just have to accept what you did and maybe eventually you can forgive yourself."

"Have you forgiven yourself?"

Bass sighs, "You said you don't know how to forgive me. Well, I don't know how either, but I'm hopeful that I'll figure it out in time."

Charlie frowns, "Frank thinks I should be nicer to you."

Bass chuckles, "Yeah? I'm not going to argue with him."

"He says I should just accept you for who you are and then see what happens." She sounds thoughtful. "Kind of the same thing you are saying I should do for myself."

"So, what do you think?'

"I think if I can't accept you for who you are, including the stuff you've done… I'll never be able to accept myself and the things I've done." She pulls back just a bit then to look at him. "Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, it does." Bass looks into her eyes, waiting. He wants to kiss her, but doesn't want to push. This morning she's finally opened up to him. He's not going to take advantage of…

But then she's leaning in and her lips brush his in the softest of kisses.

"Charlie?"

"Yeah?"

"What is happening here?"

"A breakthrough." She says softly before kissing him again.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm not drunk, but I'm feeling very…." She kisses him again and this time he can't help but kiss her back. When they pull apart, they are both breathing heavily. "But I'm feeling very accepting right now."

Bass groans into another kiss. "Accepting, huh?"

"Yeah." She smiles and pulls closer.

Their lips meet again. Hands wander. Everything is tender and gentle. They are both feeling more than a little fragile, and it shows in every touch…in every caress.

Charlie has just slid a hand under the hem of his shirt, exploring his muscles reverently when there is a loud knock on the door, and Blanchard's overly cheery voice booms through, "Rise and Shine Kids! Time to get back on the road."

"Shit." Bass chuckled, before pressing his forehead to Charlie's. "To be continued?"

Her eyes lock with his and she smiles. "To be continued."

**A/N The excerpt in this chapter is from Margery Williams children's' classic "The Velveteen Rabbit." There will be one more road trip chapter before the Fortune Teller comes into play…. Hope you'll stick around to meet them. **** Please leave a review if you have a moment. **


	5. Chapter 5

Part Five: All I Want Is You

**Moments from Week Four**

Bass Monroe is lost in thought, staring at the creased paper in his hands. So intent is his focus that he doesn't notice when Frank Blanchard walks up behind him.

"Looking at that thing again? How about you just go over and talk to her. She's right over there, ya know." Frank shakes his head ruefully. "You two need to get your shit together. You're giving me an ulcer."

Bass carefully folds Charlie's wanted poster into a small square as Blanchard walks away. The four days which have passed since he'd woken up in Charlie's arms have been difficult. They haven't had much chance to talk. They definitely haven't had time to do more than talk.

After leaving that little town, the three travelers had agreed to step up their pace. This means pushing the horses through every minute of daylight. While on the road, Bass usually goes ahead while Charlie sits next to Blanchard as he drives, her bow at the ready just in case they run into trouble. When darkness falls, the men set up camp while Charlie hunts for game. By the time they have eaten, they are all exhausted. Frank can't manage to stay awake for watch so Charlie and Bass take turns sleeping and standing guard.

This is not to say they haven't had their moments. There have been lingering looks and a few stolen kisses. There have been times when they've touched for just a moment as they pass each other. It's all sweet torture. Bass isn't sure how much longer he can go without more.

They estimate that they'll reach New Vegas within the next day. Bass doesn't know what to expect when they get there. Hopefully they'll find Frank Jr. quickly so that they can get that business taken care of.

After all, Bass and Charlie have other – more personal - business they need to take care of as well.

After tucking the wanted poster into his back pocket, he looks where Blanchard had pointed. The drawing is good, but looking at Charlie in the flesh is always going to be better. She is leaning against a tree. Her eyes are closed and the setting sun casts a pinkish-gold glow over her form.

He makes his way through some brush and around a few boulders, finally coming to stand before her.

"Hey." She says without opening her eyes.

"Hey yourself. You okay?"

She nods, "Yeah, just tired. I'll be glad when this is over."

Bass isn't sure how to answer so he says nothing.

Charlie opens her eyes and looks into his. She smiles, "I meant this trip…the being on the road part… not the being with you part."

He looks away, but also smiles. "Thanks for clarifying." He turns back to her and takes a step closer, erasing the distance between their bodies. "Glad you aren't tired of me yet."

"No, not yet." She pushes herself away from the tree and leans against his chest, relishing his closeness, but also feeling uncomfortable by it. This is the new norm it seems, a never ending parade of varying emotions when it comes to this man. Bass slides his hands around her waist until his fingers meet at her spine. He leans his face down and kisses her softly. Her response is tentative at first, but escalates. Curling her fingers into the lapels of his jacket, she holds him close and deepens the kiss.

Bass's hands are delving under layers, stroking her back as he searches her mouth with his tongue. Charlie's hands move up behind his neck, her fingers sliding into his hair. Only when they both hear a noise do they part.

"Excuse me lovebirds, but I'm hungry." Frank is smirking.

"So eat something Frank." Bass says without taking his eyes from Charlie's.

"Yeah, I was going to but there's a problem."

"What's the problem?" Charlie asks, staring at Bass.

"Well, the uh food…" he gestures to the ground by Charlie where two dead rabbits are lying in a sad little pile between her boots. "I can clean them and cook them, but I need you to give them to me. Was afraid if I just reached in there, I might get a knife in my eye."

"Good call, Frank." Bass laughs, leaning over and grabbing the rabbits before thrusting them in Frank's direction.

"Thanks Kids. Carry on." Frank wanders back toward camp, rabbits hanging limply from his hand.

When Bass looks into Charlie's eyes again he can see her mood has shifted. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing really." She looks at his jacket instead of his eyes, and uses her hands to smooth out the lapels she'd been so urgently pulling at just moments before. "It's just…"

"Just what?" he puts a finger under Charlie's chin and tilts her face up. Their gaze locks once again. "Tell me Charlie."

"I was just thinking about what's coming next."

"New Vegas?"

"No, I mean yeah. Well, I mean between you and me." She looks at him then and he can see the uncertainty but also the desire. He understands then.

Bass leans in again and nuzzles her neck. "Oh. Yeah I've been thinking about that a lot too. Maybe tonight we can…"

Charlie pushes him away gently. "No, let me finish. I've been thinking about how much I don't want our first time together to be out here on the road… I mean… I just need it to be different from…."

Bass feels apprehension crawling into his gut, "Different from what, exactly?"

Charlie bites at her lip and picks at a seam on his jacket with her fingernail. "You're the one who mentioned déjà vu alright, and it's been in my head ever since. I just don't want any similarities, okay? I need everything to be different with you."

Bass takes her hands and moves them to her sides before taking a step back. "Seriously Charlie? You're thinking of Connor right now?" his voice is low and raspy. "You're kissing me, but thinking about when you were screwing my kid?"

"No. It's not like that. It's not." Charlie shakes her head.

"Then what is it?"

"It's being outside on a trip to New Vegas… it's just too similar, okay?" She reaches for him but he takes another step back. "It's not you. It's not this." She motions between them.

"I thought you said the thing between you and Connor didn't mean anything?" Bass is staring off toward camp. He can't look at her right now.

"It meant nothing." Charlie's voice is firm. "Nothing."

"Then why is it interfering now?"

"It's not interfering because it mattered. It didn't. It's interfering because I want us to be set apart and different." She looks at him with pleading eyes. "I know you know what I mean. Put yourself in my shoes. If this was happening in some place that reminded you of someone else…of someone you did NOT want to think about… wouldn't you want to wait just a bit till it felt different? Special?"

For just a moment his memory flashes to the one place and the one woman he regrets more than any of the others. In a flash he imagines what he would be feeling right now if he and Charlie were in that suite in Independence Hall. He shudders slightly and nods. "I get it." He still keeps his distance. "We'll wait till things are different."

They hear Frank calling out, "Dinner will be ready in a few. Put your pants on and get over here." His cackle echoes and Bass and Charlie both feel a bit of the tension fade.

Charlie looks up at Bass then, "We won't wait long. There's got to be a place in New Vegas, right?"

Bass chuckles, putting an arm around her shoulders as they walk back to camp, "Yeah, there will be places and they will be different. That's for sure. Let's just wait and see."

She nods. "Yeah, let's do that."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next morning dawns bright and clear. There is a soft breeze and Bass, Charlie and Blanchard are all tired and sore, but happy to know that the end of their journey is in sight. The land is flat and there is a clear view for miles. Because of this Bass is in the wagon. He's driving with Charlie at his side. Blanchard is lounging in the back on his mattress.

"So Frank, tell us about Junior." Charlie suggests.

Bass chuckles but doesn't say anything.

Frank frowns, "Well Charlie, he's a piece of shit to be honest, but he's my piece of shit so I love him. He is a ladies man. Watch yourself. He loves pretty ones like you and he's a charmer, but he's also good for nothing, so don't fall for his charms."

Charlie gives a sideways glance at Monroe and sees Bass smirking. She turns, "I'll try to resist him as best I can, Frank." She says with a smile.

Blanchard isn't really paying attention. He continues, "I loved his Mama so much. She was the most beautiful woman I ever met."

Bass and Charlie share a smile, and Bass says, "Tell us about her Frank."

Blanchard sighs heavily. "Her name was Sylvia and she had just been crowned Miss Texas when I met her. This was a good ten years before the blackout. She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on and I knew she would be mine someday."

"Did she think the same thing about you?" Bass asks, grinning now.

"Oh hell no." She told me I was an old pervert. Hell I was only forty-one at the time, but she was eighteen and said I was too damn old."

Bass stiffens when he hears this. He doesn't look at Charlie but he knows she's thinking the same thing he is. The age difference between Frank and Sylvia is almost as big as the one between Bass and Charlie. It's not something they've really discussed, but it's something they've both thought about.

"So, how did you convince her to give you a shot?" Charlie asks.

"Well, I took her flowers and chocolates and wrote her poetry and even made her a mix cd of my favorite love songs."

"Shit." Bass mutters, "You had it bad."

"Yeah, I did." Frank shakes his head, "I don't think I ever heard anyone say no so many times in my life, but finally I guess I wore her down." He smiles then, "She told me she'd go out to dinner with me one time and that would be it."

"So I take it the dinner was perfect?" Charlie asks.

"Oh no. It was awful. The soup was cold. Our waiter was an idiot. We were seated right next to the kitchen. Our food was burnt and some kid rammed into Sylvia's chair and her wine spilled all over her dress. It was the worst date ever."

"So then what happened?" Charlie asked, very curious.

"Well, as we were walking out to my car, we were mugged."

"No way." Bass said with a laugh.

"Yes. I'm not kidding. Like I said… worst date ever, right? It was this punk kid in a hoodie. He had a big knife and he threatened Sylvia with it. Asked for all our money."

"What did you do?" Charlie asks.

"Well, I punched that little jerkoff right in the nose. He dropped the knife and cried like a little girl, but then he tried to run off, so I jumped on him and held him down till the cops showed up." Frank is grinning like an idiot.

"Sylvia liked that, huh?" Charlie asks, smiling. "She liked when you saved her."

"Yeah she did. After we gave our statement to the police, we went out for coffee. Pretty soon we were talking and after an hour or so she was rubbing her foot on my leg and well, the rest is sort of history."

"And Junior?"

"Well he was born nine months later, almost to the day." Frank cackles, but then his smile fades and he looks sad.

"What happened to her?" Bass asks. He knows that look. He knows loss and grief when he sees it.

Blanchard sighs, and looks off into the distance. "On Junior's ninth birthday, Sylvia complained of chest pain. We thought it was probably nothing. She waited almost a week till she went to the doctor, not that the one week would have made a difference. She had stage three lung cancer. It was bad, but you know… could have been worse. They started her on chemo treatments right away."

"It didn't work?" Charlie asks.

Frank doesn't say anything for a minute. Bass speaks for him, "The lights went out before her treatment could be completed, didn't it?"

Blanchard nods, "Yep. It was all down-hill after the damn blackout happened. She was in a lot of pain and we didn't have any way to help her with it. We stayed in our house while she withered away. It was awful. Junior would sit with her while I went looking for food. When she finally died it was just after her twenty-eighth birthday. I buried her in our back yard next to Junior's swing set and then we left Dallas and never looked back. Ended up in Austen where I had a sister. He stayed with her mostly after that. I wasn't dealing with my grief very well, and he looked so much like her… I just could hardly stand to look at him. That feeling passed of course, but by the time I tried to build a relationship with Junior… I guess you'd say that ship had sailed."

"I'm so sorry about Sylvia." Charlie says. "You were happy with her?"

"So damn happy… You know the worst days with Sylvia were better than my best days without her. I'll never love again the way I loved her."

Bass looks over his shoulder at Blanchard and realizes he needs to lighten the mood. He lifts an eyebrow high, "Oh yeah? I seem to remember you enjoying yourself quite a bit in Austen. Walnut!"

Frank looks irritated at first, but then he joins Bass in laughter. Charlie has no idea what they are talking about but smiles because their mirth is contagious.

"Well hell Monroe, I forgot you knew about that. I am not ashamed though. Sylvia wouldn't have wanted me to be lonely. I won't ever fall in love again. Never said I won't have some fun." He shrugs.

Bass nods, "Seems to me you know your way around having some fun Frank."

"That I do, Monroe. That I do." Blanchard flops back down on his mattress and is soon dozing.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They ride without speaking for a while. The sound of horseshoes and wagon wheels on the dusty road mix with snores from Blanchard in the back. As the first glimpse of New Vegas appears on the horizon, Charlie feels déjà vu. The town's location had been different, but the welcome sign is the same. The feel of the place is the same as well. It's not a good feel. Icy dread crawls up her spine.

She remembers approaching the gates that first time. She'd been so full of hate; her heart dark with need for revenge. She remembers the images that fueled her journey… her father dying on the ground back in Wisconsin, and her childish innocence dying with him….her brother's body jerking back with every slug that hit his chest…the way he fell and how her heart broke once again.

Charlie can't look at Bass right now. She's afraid that if she does, everything will fall apart. She's made progress. She's told him she's going to try to accept him for who he is, but can she? The reason she's slowed things down physically had only been partly due to her experience with Connor. Truthfully she still isn't sure she can move forward with Bass. She knows she wants him physically. There is no doubt about the attraction, but if she gives in to her body's desire, will she regret it?

Bass reaches for Charlie's hand. He wraps his fingers around hers and squeezes lightly. "New Vegas again, Charlie."

"Third time's the charm, right?" Charlie asks, trying to keep her voice light.

"I hope so. This town has never been very lucky for me."

"Maybe your luck's about to change." Charlie says, but in her heart…she isn't so sure.

**New Vegas and The Fortune Teller**

She stands at the door of her tent on the edge of New Vegas, watching with her one good eye. She's wearing the mask because it has become habit. Occasionally she holds up of an old set of binoculars, though she only sees through the right lens. She isn't watching for anything in particular. She just likes to watch. She likes to see the people who come and go from this strange gypsy city because she never knows which of them might be her next customer. She calls herself Madame Veronica.

Her age is difficult to guess. Maybe thirty. Maybe fifty. Probably somewhere between. She has auburn hair that falls in waves to her waist. Her generous curves are packed tightly into a purple silk bustier over a flowing skirt that hangs to the floor. She styles her long red hair to hang low over the damaged left side of her face. The complete lack of muscle tone on that side and the downward tilt of her mouth give her an odd off-kilter appearance. She tries to compensate with the hair and the small black mask that covers her left eye completely. Nobody dares to ask, but if they did, she would tell them about the stroke. They don't ask because although her speech is somewhat slurred and her face is almost always in shadow, it is clear she was a beautiful woman once. And in that one sparkling clear eye they can also see she is still strong, clever and determined. The mask and the draping red hair give her a mysterious aura that only enhances her position in this gypsy society as the fortune teller.

"See anything interesting, Love?" Her companion moves in close behind her and places his strong young hands on her shoulders. He massages the tension in the muscles there, lightly kissing her neck. He is wiry but handsome with a clean shaven head and a black mustache. He feels her stiffen before him. "What is it?"

"A wagon is on its way with a man and a woman on board. Take a look." She holds out the binoculars for him.

He doesn't have to look at her to know she's smiling. He can hear it in her voice. He takes the binoculars and uses them to look at the approaching wagon. He chuckles when he sees the man's face. "So Jimmy King is coming back to New Vegas?" The man's eyes move to the woman at Jimmy's side. "And look, he's brought a friend. They're even holding hands. Who knew Jimmy had any romance in him?"

Veronica smiles a small private smile, "Oh Jimmy can be full of surprises."

Just then another man – this one older with wild grey hair - stands in the back of the wagon, holding on to the seat where the couple sits as the wagon jostles along the uneven road. Madame Veronica's companion sees the third traveler and shakes his head as he hands the binoculars back to her. "I can't believe my Dad is here. He's probably coming to take me back. What should we do?"

Madame Veronica looks at her young lover. She knows he and his father have had issues. He has told her the stories. Their relationship is complicated and strained, if not impossible. She smiles her weird half smile. "It will be okay, Junior. I have a plan."

He walks to her, a cocky grin now spreading across his face as he pulls her close. "You always do."

**A/N: Hey all! Thanks so much for sticking with me on this one. There will be one or maybe two more chapters. A lot more action (of all kinds) coming in the next chapter. Stay tuned. Thanks for all the reviews and PMs. Let me know what you think if you have a minute.**


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6: I can't fight this feeling any longer….

Blanchard tells Bass to stop the wagon behind a copse of trees. They can see New Vegas clearly, but are still at least a hundred yards away from the town walls. Blanchard motions for both of them to get off the wagon. "Go sit under those trees and rest." He points to the town, "I'm going in. I'll ask around a bit and come back by dark with news."

"Why should we trust YOU in New Vegas all alone? Thought you wanted us to come along because you didn't trust yourself?" Bass asks, clearly skeptical.

"True, but I'll be good. I promise. Scouts honor. I'll be in and out in three hours, tops."

"What are we supposed to do while we wait for you to get back?" Charlie asks.

Blanchard chuckles and waggles his bushy eyebrows, "Oh, I'm sure you'll think of something."

Bass and Charlie pull their packs from the wagon and find a grassy area under some of the trees where they can sit down. They listen as the wagon lurches away without speaking. Bass watches her. Clearly something is on her mind. "What is it?"

"Just thinking about last time we were here."

"What? Thinking about Connor again?" his brow furrows.

"No. Duncan." Charlie answers quietly. She knows he took the news of Duncan's death hard. Clearly they had a history. She doesn't want to hurt him but she can't help but wonder about the other woman.

Bass looks away, letting out a long breath. "Duncan." He says, suddenly lost in thought.

"Tell me about her." Charlie prods.

"You met her."

"Yes, but I didn't really know her. Tell me why she was special to you."

He nods slowly, "After the tower, I wandered for a while. It took me a couple weeks to get to New Vegas. I'd been there for maybe ten minutes when some asshole picked a fight with me. I wasn't in the mood and kicked the shit out of him. Duncan came along and her guys pulled me away before I could kill the guy. She took me to her camp and let me stay there for a while. I rested, got cleaned up, ate some food, and started to feel a little more human. She could tell I didn't want to talk to anyone so they all pretty much left me alone for several days."

Bass pause for a moment, lost in thought. When he continues, his voice is quieter. "Then one day she came in and we started talking. She pointed to my tattoo, and told me she knew who I was. She was the one who suggested that I get rid of it. I agreed. Her guys held me down while she burnt it off. She gave me some salve and said I should consider fighting when it healed. I told her no but when she mentioned how much I could make each night, I said I'd give it a try. Toward the end of that first month we started sharing a tent." Bass looks at her sheepishly. She shrugs. This much she'd figured out.

He continues, "It was good at first, but it didn't take us long to realize that we would be much better off as friends. After that I moved into that trailer where I was staying when you found me and I started fighting more. I saw her now and then around town. Sometimes she came to my fights. Sometimes I played cards with her men. She never told anyone who I really was. Mostly we got along. Toward the end we argued. It was just days before you came for me actually. She was worried that Gould was gaining too much power and she wanted me to help her take over. She knew about my background and figured I could be an ally against Gould."

"You didn't want to?" Charlie asks.

"I just couldn't do it. I couldn't be that guy again…at least I didn't think I could. I told her no and she was pissed. So when I left without saying goodbye only to show up some months later asking for guys so I could fight a different battle, well she was not happy about it."

Charlie nods thoughtfully, finally understanding their relationship a little better.

"She was a friend Charlie. She was a good friend." His eyes look sad.

"I know MY favorite thing about your good friend was when she sold me to a pimp." Charlie tries to lighten the mood and sees him crack a smile. "Those were good times."

He shakes his head with a chuckle, "The people here loved her, Charlie…. Most of them did anyway. She would have run this place after she took out Gould. If only she'd had the chance. Damn patriots."

She hates when he looks sad. All she wants to do is make the sadness go away. "Come here." Charlie says, motioning him to move closer.

He's hesitant but complies, scooting to sit at her side and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. They sit in silence for a while, enjoying the cool breeze that ruffles the trees above. Absently he strokes shapes against the skin on her arm. She leans farther into him, pressing her face to his throat. Bass's heart starts to beat faster as Charlie brings her hand up, stroking his beard. She runs a finger across his lips and feels his intake of breath. Following her lead, he strokes her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. She opens her mouth and takes his thumb between her lips, sucking gently at the digit, raising her eyes to meet his.

Watching her mouth move makes Bass's dick throb with need. "Charlie." He groans. She lets go of his thumb and leans up to kiss him. He doesn't hesitate, pulling her closer, running his hands up and down her back. Bass deepens the kiss, angling over her mouth, exploring the heat and the taste of her. "Not complaining, but I thought you'd decided we had to wait for something different than on the ground near New Vegas?"

She laughs, before taking his ear lobe between her teeth. "I still feel that way. We're not going to let this get out of hand Bass. Not here."

"So you just want to make out?" he's smiling as his hand reaches for second base.

Charlie smirks, "Yeah, I mean as long as that's okay with you?"

"I think I can make it work." Bass says before taking her mouth with his once more. This kiss is playful and searching. Their tongues stroke and taste. She bites down on Bass's lower lip and he growls, rolling her onto her back. He covers her body with his, staring into her eyes before lowering his mouth to her neck. Bass uses one forearm to support his weight while his free hand kneads at Charlie's breast. He works his hand lower, stroking her belly. He sucks lightly at the flesh behind her ear.

The kiss intensifies and Charlie feels every reservation slipping away. She still doesn't know if it's the right decision, but she knows without a doubt that she wants Bass. She wants him even if it means she'll regret it later. The time has come to give in.

"Bass." She whispers his name as he strokes his hand over the denim that covers her center. Writhing against his hand, she feels tension building.

He loves hearing Charlie say his name. He moves his hand back up to her flat belly, feathering over the tender flesh with his fingertips, as he presses his lips to hers again, tasting her sweetness.

Charlie has one hand buried in his hair. The other is gripping Bass's bicep. She feels his muscles move as he unsnaps and unzips her jeans. Charlie purrs as he dips into her panties, finding her wet and ready. He slips two fingers into her velvety folds, parting her sex. Bass is still kissing her, his mouth moving urgently against hers while he thrusts his fingers into her heat. Charlie arches into his touch as he begins to stroke her sensitive clit with his thumb.

"Bass." She moans again.

"Charlie." He responds, smiling as he watches the pleasure in her expression. He sees the moment her orgasm takes her. He sees it at the same time he feels it clamping down on his fingers. Her eyes pop wide and she digs her fingers into her arm, riding through the waves with a moan.

"Damnit, that was…"

"Yeah, it was." He grins, kissing her lightly.

"But you didn't…"

"Don't worry about me. This time is all about you."

"It is?" Charlie smiles and kisses him back. His fingers are still buried in her pussy and she is surprised when he begins to stroke in and out again.

"Oh." She says with a little gasp.

"There is one other thing I want to do." Bass says, his voice rough against her ear.

"What's that?"

"I want to taste you, Charlie."

She shakes her head, but his fingers are relentless and she's feeling heat coil in her core for the second time. "Bad idea." She pants.

"Why?" he's truly curious.

"I don't want you to feel like you have to do that." She says, her words coming in gasps as his fingers continue their onslaught.

"But I WANT to do that." He says.

"You do?"

"Oh yeah." With that he moves his fingers from her center, grasps her jeans and panties and yanks them down. He pulls her boots off and in moments, she is naked from the waist down, panting. Her eyes are wide as she watches him drink in the sight of her swollen sex, wet for him. Bass kneels reverently, looking up to meet Charlie's eyes before taking his tongue and stroking her slit ever so slowly.

She keens for more, lifting her hips to encourage him. Bass Monroe needs no encouragement. He loves this.. loves the way she tastes…loves the way she moves and the sounds she makes. He licks the tender flesh of her velvety sex. He sucks lightly on her clit, occasionally grazing it with his teeth. His fingers delve inside once more and he pumps them in and out, curving his fingers deep inside to find the spot that drives her crazy. Charlie feels the world crashing down around her as he replaces his fingers with his tongue, fucking her with it until she explodes, spent and amazed.

Charlie watches him as he stands, grinning at her proudly. "You all right?" he asks, his voice husky, his eyes hot.

She nods shakily, "That was way more than making out."

"I guess it was." He smiles softly, "I'm not sorry."

Charlie meets his eyes and sees the heat still lurking there, "Me either." She says quietly.

"You should get dressed. I expect Frank will be back soon." Bass holds out a hand to help her up. She takes it, falling against him when her legs prove too shaky to support her properly. He laughs and pulls her into a tight hug. "Sure you're okay?"

"Better than okay." She finally says. "Way better, but… I owe you."

He grins at her, "I'll collect soon. Don't worry about that. We've got plenty of time."

Charlie nods slowly, a hazy smile on her face.

She dresses quickly while Bass cleans up. Then then share a simple meal of dried apples and jerky. They eat in silence, eyes locked on each other. When Blanchard pulls up a little later, they emerge from the trees, holding hands.

"Looks like someone has had some fun." Blanchard chuckles when he sees the dreamy expression on Charlie's face. "Bout damn time."

"So what did you find out?" Bass asks, changing the subject.

Blanchard thrusts a pile of papers into Bass's hand. "These are everywhere kids." He frowns down at the same wanted posters that they'd seen in Willoughby. "You guys are going to have to keep a low profile."

"How do we do that?" Charlie asks, discouraged. "These drawings are pretty good."

"Mine's not." Bass says. "They made me look old."

Charlie smirks a little, but tries not to laugh, "Any ideas Frank?"

He nods, "Sure I got ideas, Sweetie. I brought some disguises for you." He hands each of them a bag.

Bass pulls an old flannel shirt, a ratty ball cap and a pair of reading glasses with no lenses from his bag. He shrugs. "This will work."

Charlie looks in her bag and hands it back to Blanchard. "No." she says simply, her mood shifting completely from happy and sated to belligerent.

"Come on Charlie," Frank says with an ornery grin. "It'll look good."

Charlie crosses her arms and shakes her head no. Her jaw is set in a tight line.

Bass is intrigued. "What did he bring for you?" he asks as he shoves his leather jacket into his pack and dons the blue and grey flannel shirt over his v- neck tee.

"He brought me a hooker dress." She says flatly. "I'm not wearing it."

Frank shakes a finger back and forth in disagreement, "Not just a hooker dress. I also brought shoes and a wig too."

"No." Charlie says again.

Bass puts on his fake eye glasses and pulls the hat low. "I bet you'll look good in a hooker dress." He says with an appraising smirk.

Charlie fumes, pointing at Bass. "Why does he get to look like a regular guy, and I have to look like a hooker?"

Blanchard shrugs, "You said you've been to New Vegas before, right?" When Charlie nods, he continues, "Then you know that nobody will blend in there better than a hooker."

Defeated, Charlie grabs the bag and stomps into the trees, trying to ignore the laughter coming from both Bass and Blanchard. "Bastards." She mutters as she pulls off her regular clothes and yanks on the dress. The dress – if you can even call it that – is electric blue. It is very short and far too tight. It has a built in bustier that makes Charlie's breasts look much fuller than usual.

Charlie looks at the wig Frank had found but shoves it back into the bag. She dips into her own pack, finding a long leather strap. She wraps her hair into a messy up-do with it, allowing a few tendrils to hang loose around her face. When Charlie finds the shoes Frank has brought, she smiles for the first time since the disguise idea had come up. Silver with long trailing straps to tie around her ankles, they remind her of the ballet flats she'd worn to dance class as a child. She puts them on and ties them before putting her own clothes into her pack. She takes it and Blanchard's bag with her as she heads back to the wagon where the men are waiting.

Bass and Blanchard are both leaning against the wagon, talking about nothing in particular when Charlie emerges from the trees.

"Whew." Blanchard lets out a long breath.

"Holy hell." Bass mutters.

She walks toward them purposefully, but pauses when she sees Bass's face. His expression is a perfect combination of bewilderment and arousal. Charlie's frown fades and is replaced by a slow grin. "You like?" she asks, coming to a stop in front of Bass.

He nods, "I like." His voice is rough and his eyes are hot.

She turns to Frank, "That wig is disgusting. I'm not wearing it. Hopefully having my hair up will work just as well."

"It will work." Bass says.

"You're sure? My face is still going to be recognizable." She sounds unsure.

"Don't worry Honey," Frank says with a sigh, "Ain't nobody gonna be looking at your face while you're wearing that."

Bass glares at Blanchard and puts his arm around Charlie's shoulder, leading her to the front of the wagon. He leans in close, "What do you say we skip New Vegas and go back into the trees?"

"Tempting Loverboy, but we need to get that list. Let's make sure that's taken care of and then…" she trails off when he runs a hand along her exposed back. "Then, we'll see." She finishes with a little shiver.

As they ride the short way into New Vegas, all three travelers sit on the bench seat, Charlie sits in the middle. "Stop looking at my boobs, Frank." She mutters.

"I'll try, but they are so damned pretty." Blanchard shakes his head, grinning.

Bass decides to stop this conversation before Charlie stabs Frank, "So where do we look first for Junior?"

"Well I asked around and there are a couple possibilities. A casino called the Lucky Nickel on the north end or a palm reader on the west end. Both have guys calling themselves junior. There were a couple Franks too, but one was a tranny hooker and one was eighty years old, so those are dead ends."

Bass smiles, "The casino Junior sounds like a safe bet."

Blanchard agrees, "That's what I figure too."

Charlie looks at Bass, "You never said how you knew Frank Junior?"

"Well, Miles and I met him the year before Miles left the Republic. We were in Texas for a treaty summit…"

"Which did not go well at all." Blanchard says with a frown. "We almost fell into a big ugly war when Miles tried to kill Fry."

"That's true." Bass says, "But in Miles's defense, he was very, very drunk and Fry had told him that the Colts were a bunch of pussies who were inferior to the Cowboys."

Charlie looks from one to the other, confused. "Colts and Cowboys? What are you talking about?"

"Football, Charlie. Didn't matter that the NFL was history long before Fry and Miles got into that argument. Team loyalty is still a big deal for a lot of us who were fans before the blackout."

"So Miles tried to kill a Texas Ranger because of a ball game?"

"Well, there may have been something about a woman too, but I don't remember exactly." Bass says with a chuckle.

Blanchard cackles happily. "Aw, that was fun."

Charlie shakes her head, "Okay, but how did you meet Junior?"

"Well the…uh…establishment we were meeting at –"

"It was a whorehouse Monroe. You forget that already?" Frank laughs, smacking his knee.

Bass looks uncomfortable, but shrugs, "So the whorehouse we were at was hooked up to this casino and we wandered in there when we heard a commotion."

"What kind of commotion could possibly pull you away from a HOUSE full of whores?" Charlie asks dryly.

"That would be Junior." Bass replied. "He was maybe sixteen…just a kid, but a good gambler. He'd won big that night at the craps table and then spent all his money buying the…uh…company…of some of the ladies there."

"And?"

"Well, he did something to make them mad – I don't know what - and they chased him buck naked from his room out onto the casino floor."

Blanchard nods, "I remember this."

"What happened then?" Charlie asks.

"Well, it was strange enough for a naked guy to be running through the casino, but he stopped at the craps table again – still buck naked and not caring one bit - and placed a bet with the last diamond he had –"

"And won big AGAIN." Blanchard finishes, laughing.

"Those girls were chasing him because they were mad…right up till he showed them how much money he had just won, they took him back to their room. It wasn't long after that happened that the whole Miles and Fry argument started. Things got crazy then, and I never did see Junior again, but he left an impression."

"That's my boy." Frank says with a proud smile.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Once within the gates, they leave their wagon and horses with a livery and head in the direction Blanchard indicates. Charlie starts getting a lot of attention right away from men on the street, and Bass does not like it at all. He wraps a protective hand around her back, lightly stroking her hip as they walk along.

They arrive at the Lucky Nickel. It is a collection of large tents shoved together to form a series of rooms. Hanging out front is a large American flag. "This is a big Patriot hangout. Keep your wits about ya." Frank suggests as they walk through the doorway.

All three glance around. There are card tables everywhere. In one corner is a roulette wheel. Two craps tables are along another wall. A bar spans the back. Frank heads to the bar to ask the bartender if he knows anyone named Junior. Charlie and Bass move to the roulette table where a noisy game is in progress.

After thirty minutes of asking questions, all three have struck out. They exit the tent and regroup out front. They've all heard the same story. Everyone knows Junior, but nobody has seen him tonight. They have been told to come back tomorrow and try again.

"It's still early." Frank says, "Let's go check out that palm reader just in case we're chasing the wrong Junior."

Charlie and Bass agree. They don't have a place to stay yet, and the hour is early anyway. There's plenty of time to go check out Frank's other lead. "I'm thirsty." Bass says before ducking into one of the bars and coming out with a bottle of dark liquor. He takes a drink before holding the bottle out to Charlie.

She takes a swig and grimaces, "That's nasty."

Bass smiles before taking the bottle back. He holds her gaze as he presses the glass to his lips for another drink. "Seems okay to me." He says, "Want some more?"

What Charlie wants is to feel his lips on her again, but knowing that has to wait – sharing his bottle seems to be the second best option. She holds out a hand, "Yeah, I want some more."

He smirks when he sees the twinkle in her eye.

Frank has gotten a way ahead, and now he turns and yells, "You guys coming with me or not?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They are getting close to the part of town where the palm reader is supposed to be. Blanchard asks a man they pass for directions. "Lady Veronica? Sure. She's got a tent down past the carnival. It's purple. You can't miss it."

"A carnival?" Charlie asks with a grin. "I loved carnivals when I was little."

"Of course you did." Bass says, shaking his head. "I hate fucking carnivals."

As they work their way toward Lady Veronica's tent, they are enveloped by a crowd of rowdy gypsies, hookers, gamblers and hoodlums. It appears that everyone is having a fabulous time. A drunken man with no teeth approaches Charlie on unsteady legs, "How much for a hand job Sweetie?"

Charlie takes a step back in distaste. Bass wraps his arm more tightly around her and pulls her body close. "Get lost Grandpa."

A different man – trim and greasy with a handlebar moustache – calls out as they pass, "You can't fool me! I can guess your age within a year or you get a prize!" He eyes Charlie and Bass and motions them over. "Come on over here you two… I do love a good May-December romance!"

Bass moves to walk past, but Charlie pulls him over. Bass shakes his head, "I think the last thing we need is a reminder of our ages." She gives in and they move along.

It is Bass's turn to stop when they come to a dart game. He digs in a pocket for a small diamond, and after paying is given three darts. He easily wins and the carnie manning the booth hands him a small handmade stuffed bear. It's pink and looks sad, but Charlie likes it and gives Bass a big grin as he hands it over. She tucks it into her bag and they keep going.

Blanchard has been tagging along, but is getting fidgety. "I don't like being a fifth wheel, so I'll see you later." Then he wanders off.

Bass and Charlie walk by a freak show tent and the strong man starts yelling, "Jimmy! Hey over here, Jimmy!"

They walk over to him quickly. Bass smiles, speaking quietly, "Hey Tiny, How are you?"

"Doing good Jimmy. Glad to see you." The big bear of a man is smiling and his expression reminds Charlie of Danny when he was just a little boy. Though physically an adult, Tiny appears to have the mind of a child. She watches as Bass lets Tiny hug him.

Bass pats the younger man on the arm. "Do you like the new place?"

Tiny shrugs, "It's all different, and I don't really like different, but the people are still the same and that is good." He smiles shyly at Charlie, "Hi. You're pretty."

Bass nods in agreement, "You got that right. This is my lady Charlie. Charlie, this is Tiny. How bout you Tiny? You find yourself a lady yet?"

Tiny's smile fades for the first time, "Well, I liked this girl. She ran with Duncan's clan but they killed her Jimmy. She was a sweet girl and they killed her. Broke my heart." Tears well up in the Strong Man's eyes.

"Sorry about that Tiny. We all lost some friends in that battle." Bass's expression is grim.

"Sure did." Tiny replies with a heavy sigh before perking up a little as he is struck by an idea, "You gonna fight Jimmy? Gould is gone, but other guys run fights now. You could do real good."

"Not doing that anymore." Bass says shaking his head, "And Tiny, do me a favor?"

"Anything Jimmy."

"Don't tell anyone you saw me today, okay? Can you keep my secret?"

"Oh sure. I'm real good at secrets." Tiny grins again and waves as they walk away. "Nice to meet you Miss Charlie." He says.

"Poor guy." Charlie says sadly. "He's sweet but so sad about losing his girl."

"Fucking Patriots." Bass grumbles.

"Yeah, can't wait to be rid of them." Charlie agrees.

"No Charlie, I'm mean there are Patriots here – six 'o clock. He casually nods in the direction of a group of five laughing Patriots. They appear to be off duty, drinking and enjoying the nightlife, but Charlie and Bass can't be too careful.

"Oh." She says, worried. "What should we do?"

"We hide in plain sight of course." He drops the now empty liquor bottle to the ground and then he pulls her close, dipping his mouth to hers. At first they are both hyper aware of their surroundings, but soon their bodies are forgetting any danger that might lurk nearby. They are consumed by the heat that sparks between them.

Bass buries a hand in her hair, holding her close. His other hand grasps tightly at her ass, pulling her tight to his body. His kiss is aggressive and needy. Tongues tangle and teeth clash.

Charlie's need for Bass is all consuming as he holds her, stroking her lower back and ass greedily. The kiss deepens and Charlie feels his erection pressing into her stomach. She slides one hand between their bodies, rubbing slowly against the thick denim covered ridge of his cock.

Bass groans into her mouth. "I think the Patriots are gone."

"What is a Patriot?" she asks, only half kidding. Her thoughts are only on Bass and how he feels hot and hard against her body. She wants more. Now that the decision to move forward has been made, she wants to move now.

"Hey, maybe you guys should move your act inside?" a middle aged woman with wild orange hair and a bosom that just barely stays in her blouse is leering at them both. "You can buy time in my kissing booth. What kind of kissing you do in there is entirely up to you…" Her laugh quickly turns into a barking smoker's cough but Bass grins and pulls Charlie in the direction of the kissing booth.

They pass the woman and Bass tosses a diamond into the jar and they pull the curtain shut behind them.

"Aren't we supposed to be looking for Frank Junior?" Charlie asks as Bass's hands start to move again, settling low, cupping her ass cheeks. He nibbles at her chin.

"I'm pretty sure Frank Senior's on it already." Bass moves to suck at the flesh under her ear and Charlie leans into him, wanting more. "I think that's why he left us, to go talk to that psychic by himself."

"You think that's okay?" she asks.

"Yeah, I think it's a dead end anyway. The Frank Junior I remember wouldn't be hanging out with a palm reader when there's a perfectly good craps table across town." Bass groans as she grinds against him. He is sure his dick has never been this hard.

"So you're saying we have time to fool around for a little while?" Charlie asks breathlessly as Bass bites down on her bottom lip.

"That's exactly what I'm saying." He replies with a grin.

"And, I seem to remember that I owe you for earlier…"

He watches as Charlie moves her hands to his waistband and unbuckles his belt. "You know this is a kissing booth, right?"

"Oh, there will be kissing," she assures him as she sinks to her knees.

As Charlie unleashes his hard cock and wraps her mouth around it, Bass moans, "I changed my mind. I fucking love carnivals."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Frank Blanchard pulls back the thick purple tent flap, revealing a dimly lit interior. He walks in and looks around. The space he's in appears to be a waiting room of sorts. In the center is a low table that is covered with softly burning candles. There are three ancient folding chairs grouped next to the table. In the far wall is another door. "Excuse me. Anyone here?"

A shadowy figure of a woman appears at the interior door, "Hello. May I help you?"

Blanchard squints, trying to see into the shadows. The woman has long red hair and a curvy body, but her face is hidden by darkness. "You're the Fortune Teller?"

"Yes. I am Lady Veronica. What can I help you with?"

"I need a favor, ma'am. I need to know if my son is here."

She smiles a strange half-smile, and motions for Frank to follow her into the inner chamber. "Please come with me General Blanchard. I would love to give you a reading while you're here."

"So you know who I am? You must know my boy then. Where is he?"

"Patience, Sir. Please have a seat and we'll talk."

**A/N One more real chapter and then there will be an epilogue. Let me know what you think so far. I adore hearing your thoughts. **


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7: It had to be you.

**Chapter 7**

Lady Veronica watches her visitor carefully. Frank Blanchard is an interesting man. She watches him squirm in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. She's not sure if it's what she does for a living, or the space in which she does it or the damaged side of her face he's trying so hard not to stare at - but something has him on edge. "Please, make yourself comfortable General Blanchard."

Frank glances around nervously, "So, can you just tell me where my boy is? Name is Frank Jr. I heard he might be around here."

Lady Veronica nods slowly, "I do know your son. He is… a friend." She says carefully.

Frank smiles proudly, finally relaxing a little. "Yeah, my Junior always does have a lot of…uh, friends." He chuckles.

"Yes, well," Lady Veronica says with a lopsided smile, "He's not here now. "

Blanchard's smile fades, "Ah, well okay." He lets out a heavy sigh. "Any idea where I can find him?"

"Yes, he's usually over at the Lucky Nickel this time of night. I expect you can find him there."

"Nope. We looked there. Nobody'd seen him."

"Well, he doesn't play in the main casino. He's a member. You have to go around to the back tent. That's where he'll be."

Blanchard is clearly unsettled by this news, "Well, damn. Isn't the Nickel a Patriot hangout? Do patriots gamble with the members?"

Veronica's exposed eye narrows and her fists clench. It's just a moment, and she composes herself quickly, but he catches it.

"You don't like the Patriots?"

"You could say that, yes." She takes a deep breath before continuing. "The Lucky Nickel is not a Patriot casino, but yes it has become a hangout. The real members hate the Patriots. What they don't hate, is Patriot money."

"Ah, I see. Well my kid has something that he wants to sell to them. I need to get it before he can do that."

"Well, go around to the back. There's a second tent. You can't miss it. Big red door. When you get there, ask for Bull or Leonard. Tell them Lady Veronica sent you and you'll have no problems."

"They'll help me find my kid?" He sounds hopeful.

"Yes, of course they will."

Blanchard stands to leave, "Thank you Lady Veronica. You've been a big help."

Lady Veronica stands, "General Blanchard?"

He turns, "Yeah, Sweetie?"

"I can tell that you are worried about something else. There's something not related to your son that has you bothered. Would you like to talk about it?"

He shakes his head ruefully, "Well, now that you mention it there is a little something."

"Your traveling companions maybe?"

"Well, yeah. They're good kids. Kinda grown fond of em both. Don't suppose you can tell me if things will work out okay for them?"

"Tell me a little bit about them. It will help with my reading."

"Well, sure Lady Veronica." Blanchard goes on to tell the Fortune Teller about Bass and Charlie and about why their relationship is sometimes strained. When he's done, he stands again, "You know what, I guess I'll just wait and see what happens. I've spent too much time here as it is. And truth is, they'll be here in a few minutes. Probably ask you about Junior too. Would you mind not telling them what you told me? Just maybe give them a reading and send them on?"

"Yes, of course." Lady Veronica walks Blanchard to the door, but stops him by placing a hand on his shoulder before he can exit. "Blanchard?"

"Yeah?"

"It's going to work out for them. I'm sure of it."

He nods, a happy smile spreading across his face, "Good. That's good."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Bass and Charlie are out of breath but smiling when they exit the kissing booth. Bass pulls her into an embrace, placing a kiss on her temple. "That was amazing, Charlie."

"Mmmm" she mumbles softly as he strokes her lower back. "We need to find a place to stay tonight so we can…"

"Sleep?" he asks, laughing.

"Among other things."

Just then they see Frank Blanchard walking their way. He is grasping at his generous stomach and moans a little as they meet him.

"I'm not feeling good kids. Gonna go to sleep this off."

"Where are you staying?" Bass asks.

"With a friend. I'll meet you in the morning at the lucky nickel." Blanchard doesn't waste any time, moving on quickly.

"Well, let's go ahead and check out this palm reader real quick. Then we're going to find somewhere we can finish what we've started today." Bass grins.

"Shit." Charlie says with a frown.

"What?"

"Patriots, dead ahead." She leans into him and he starts kissing her again.

Bass feels the danger all around as the group of soldiers in khaki split around them. He feels the danger, but is far more aware of Charlie's heat pressing against his body. "Let's just go find that place to stay."

She chuckles and shakes her head. "We're here Bass. Might as well go in."

He sees the purple tent and realizes she's right. "Fine, but I can tell you your future without any help from a psychic."

"Oh yeah."

"Yeah. A lot of your future is going to be spent with your legs wrapped around me while I – "

"I don't think you need to be psychic to see that coming." They've reached the tent now and Charlie ducks inside first. Bass follows just behind her. They look around what appears to be a waiting room. The interior of the tent is cool and dark.

"Please have a seat." A woman's raspy voice says. Charlie and Bass both look around and seeing nobody, assume the voice is coming from the next room.

In moments, a curvy red head in a purple flowing gown comes into the area. She might be beautiful but its hard to tell for sure. The space is very shadowy, but it seems like something is off with her face and speech.

Bass speaks, "We're looking for a guy. Name is Frank Blanchard Jr, might be going by just Junior."

Lady Veronica nods, "I know him. He's not here now. But your friend Blanchard came before you and he paid for each of you to have a reading. Who wants to go first?"

"That's weird…" Bass says, but shrugs. He's in a wonderful mood and says he'll go first. Leaning down, he kisses Charlie softly on the lips. Their eyes lock, "I'll keep it quick." He says. They are both eager to take their relationship to the next level, and agree silently that this will be their last pit stop before they find a room. Charlie grasps his fingers in hers and smiles at him before sitting in one of the old chairs.

Bass is grinning as he follows the Fortune Teller into her inner chamber. She sits behind a round table that is covered in blue velvet. On it surface sits a pedestal and a crystal ball. Candles flicker all around the room.

Bass looks at the woman across from him. Her face is in shadow, but she seems to be wearing a mask of some kind. Her long red hair is luxurious and hides even more of her face. She's interesting to be sure, but he finds his gaze drawn to other parts of the room as well. "I don't believe in all this, just so you know." Bass says when his gaze returns to her.

"You don't have to believe in it for it to be true." Her voice is low and a little sluggish, but he can hear confidence and humor in her words.

He leans back crossing his arms. He's still grinning, "Okay Lady V, give me your best shot."

The Fortune Teller nods, accepting his challenge. Her hands move to hover over the crystal ball. She stares into its depths for a while. Finally she speaks, "You are haunted by memories of lost loved ones."

Bass's grin fades, "Isn't everyone?" he asks, suddenly irritated.

She ignores his outburst. "They watch over you, you know. They want you to find happiness. They want you to move on…to heal."

"Bullshit."

"I see two young girls…your sisters maybe, an older couple…I think they are your parents."

"I'm leaving." Bass says, standing.

She continues on as if he hasn't spoken, "And a young woman with curly hair…she's holding a baby."

Bass sits down heavily, his expression blank. "What?"

"They are watching you. They love you. They want you to find love again."

Bass shakes his head, speechless. His eyes are glassy with unshed tears.

"They approve of her. The girl you are with. They think she is the one who will help you heal… She will help you move on. They see that she makes you happy…"

Bass struggles to speak, "That's not possible. This isn't real."

"Isn't it?" she asks, staring at him with her one good eye.

"Fine," he finally says – his voice rough. "Let's say this is real. What would make them so sure of her? She's only just coming to terms with maybe accepting me even after all I've done…"

"She has struggled, but her heart knows what it wants. You."

"I just don't know. I adore her but she deserves so much better."

"You're wrong about that. You are a much better match for her than you might think. Everything is coming together. You will need to be patient, but happiness…real happiness awaits."

He stares at her for a long time, suddenly wondering if he ever met her when he was in the old version of this gypsy town. "Were you around New Vegas last year? You seem familiar. We may have met... Honestly, a lot of that time is a blur."

"I think I saw you fight once." She says with a crooked smile. "You were very good."

He pauses, not sure she's really answered his question, "Well, if I ever treated you wrong I'm sorry. I was in a bad place… I wasn't a good guy. I'm still not. Not really…".

"At some point you'll find you aren't apologizing as much for your bad choices. You're going to come to terms with your past and accept it. You're going to be happy inside your own skin again. Not all that far from now, actually. She will have a lot to do with that. She's going to give you hope again. She'll give you a family."

He looks away, his eyes brimming. He takes a deep ragged breath, "A family?"

"Yes. A baby…at least one. I see others surrounding you as well, supporting you both… friends, family, a brother who isn't really your brother… he will be there. You'll never be alone again."

"That's great. It is. I would love it if it's true…. But what about my son? He left me. I don't even know if he's okay and I want to repair all that was broken between us. I at least want to have a chance…."

Madame Veronica is quiet for a long time. Finally she speaks. "Your son will return to you after your first new baby arrives. He will travel to see you and meet his new sibling. He will ask for your forgiveness and you will find a new understanding… from the ashes of your old relationship, a new one will arise."

"So, he's okay? He's alive?" Bass has tears streaming down his cheeks. He doesn't even believe in this stuff, but the world she's painting for him is too perfect not to believe in a little.

"He is alive. The future I see could change some, but a reunion with your son, and a future with the girl…these are things I see as not changing." Lady Veronica moves her hands away from the crystal ball and makes it clear that she is done. "You can send her in now."

He thanks her and leaves.

He'd been gone less than five minutes, and the last time she'd seen him, he'd been grinning so it is a shock to see that Bass has been crying. Charlie moves to him quickly and he envelops her in his arms

"Are you okay?" she asks, wiping a tear from his cheek. Her expression is concerned.

"Yeah I am." Bass smiles shakily. "Finally, I think I am." He leans in and kisses her softly. She kisses him back, holding him tight for a moment. "Go." He says quietly against her lips. "Your turn."

Charlie walks through the flap to the inner room. Lady Veronica sits behind her table. She is perfectly still. Charlie crosses her arms and scowls. "What did you say to him? He's upset."

"I told him some truths." Lady Veronica says simply.

Charlie snorts. "Whatever. Let's get this over with. I'm going to meet someone from my past. I'll find true love when I least expect it. I'll come into some money…. Hit me with your best shot Lady Veronica."

The Fortune Teller smirks in her lop-sided way, but doesn't say anything for a while. She motions Charlie to sit and after some hesitation, she does.

"I'm waiting." Charlie says, frowning. She's worried about Bass and wants to go back to him.

"You are stronger than you even know and you should trust your instincts more." Lady Veronica finally says after placing her hands along the sides of the crystal ball.

"Which instincts are you referring to?" Charlie asks.

"The ones that say you can forgive him the ones that say maybe you can have a life with him. A future."

"I don't know. I don't…." Charlie is shaking her head, unsure.

Lady Veronica sits up straight. Her one exposed eye closes. She holds up both hands. "Wait, someone is here."

Charlie glances around, suddenly nervous as the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. "What? Who?"

"Someone named Danny is here. He wants to speak to you."

Charlie is livid. "Is this a joke? Did Bass tell you to say that?" but even as she speaks the words, she knows Bass would never play that kind of trick on her.

"No trick." She says simply. "What do you want to say?" she addresses the empty space to her left. Charlie feels sick to her stomach.

Lady Veronica's voice lowers, "Stop being an idiot Charlie. You don't have to blame him for everything bad that happened. Maybe he was part of the problem, but he wasn't all of it… and now he can be the solution. He can be your solution. You need to give him a chance. You can be happy together."

Lady Veronica's head drops swiftly, but when she raises her head, her eyes are still closed. Charlie is crying now, but the Fortune Teller doesn't seem to notice. "Someone else is here. His name is Ben – "

"My father, Ben Matheson?" Charlie interrupts, suddenly wanting to believe in all this psychic bullshit.

"No." She shakes her head. "Not Ben Matheson. Not Ben…. The name is Benji. His message is very short. He wants you to know that he forgives you for how everything happened. He knows it wasn't your fault."

Charlie is assailed with images of the night they'd attacked the Patriot camp. She remembers Benji, and how it felt to take his life. She remembers the pain and anguish on Shotgun Girl's face. She remembers the guilt. The floodgates open and Charlie begins to sob. Bass hears her from the outer room and comes bursting through, fearing something awful has happened. When he sees Charlie crying, he goes to her and holds her while her shoulders shake. Lady Veronica exits silently, leaving them some space.

Charlie takes a deep cleansing breath. Reaching up, she touches his face lovingly. She reaches up and touches his face. "So, I'm ready."

"Ready for what Charlie?" his voice is hushed. He feels a hope stirring in his gut that he didn't think he'd ever feel again.

She smiles, "For whatever comes next, Bass. I'm ready to move forward… with you."

He grins slowly, "Yeah? Yeah. Me too." Bass takes Charlie's hand and pulls her to her feet. "Let's go find a place to stay."

"That is exactly what we should do."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They begin searching for a place to stay. Every room is booked. Every tent is rented. Twice they have to stop to make out when they see Patriot soldiers approaching. Bass is going crazy. They are almost to the Lucky Nickel when they see a casino tent that is dark and appears empty. The sign across the door says "Closed because Big Al died. Will re-open Friday."

Bass pulls Charlie closer to the door and they sneak under the tent flap. The place isn't wonderful but it is empty and moonlight filters through the paper thin tarp of the tent. Bass sees an old but sturdy Craps table along the back and he grins.

"You said that you wanted our first time to be different…" he grasps her hands, staring into her eyes as he leads her toward his destination. He stops when his ass bumps into the edge of the table. "This different enough for ya Charlie?"

Charlie returns his grin and nods, "Yeah. This is different enough." Bass begins to kiss her then. His lips are urgent but gentle. He wants this to be perfect.

Charlie pulls back, her eyes search his. "Bass?"

"Yeah Charlie?"

"When I said that, I still wasn't sure what was happening between us… or why. The truth is that this is already different because it's US. It's you and me…" She leans up and presses her lips to his. "It's different because this means something. This is… this is different because you are important to me…because I care about you."

"You do?" his hands are running softly up and down her arms. His heart lurches as what she's saying sinks in. "You're sure?" She nods and he sighs contentedly, "I feel the same way. I care about you… more than I even thought I could."

Bass picks Charlie up and tenderly sits her on the table's top. He climbs on as well, crawling toward her as she scoots back to make room for him. Their eyes hold and heat surges between them. Charlie leans back on her elbows with her legs bent to the side. He stops at her ankles where he admires the silver shoes with the straps that wrap up her calves. "God, these shoes are hot." He murmurs.

She stretches the leg he's been admiring, resting it on Bass's shoulder. "So, you like them?"

Bass grasps her ankle, holding it close to his face, "Mmmm." He presses his lips to the flesh there and slowly trails kisses up her calf. Charlie shudders as the touch of his lips sends a shiver down her spine. "I don't like them. I love them… because they're on you." He smirks against her inner thigh, nipping lightly at the tender flesh.

"You would like anything I wore? Good to know…" Charlie's breath catches roughly as Bass's hands begin to move under the hem of her very short hooker dress. "Ohh…" she moans.

"Anything." He agrees, moving to lie at her side, he caresses her jaw softly, pulling her chin closer to him. He kisses her with a gentleness she's never known before. The heat of the kiss radiates through her body, and she feels wetness pooling in her panties as her need escalates.

Bass buries his hands in Charlie's hair, pulling her deeper into the kiss, delving his tongue into her mouth. He tastes her and knows he'll never have enough of her. He moves his attention to her jawline and then her throat. Bass sucks gently at her pulse point, loving the way she feels under his touch.

Charlie is reveling in the way he makes her feel. His hands and mouth are everywhere at once, and her center aches for him. His touch is gentle and sweet. Every stroke of his fingers against her skin sets her on fire, and the tension growing in her core is exquisite. Charlie bites lightly on his lower lip and smiles at his responding moan.

Bass finds the zipper on the dress and pulls it down slowly. He takes his time, removing one strap and then the other, pulling the bodice of the dress down to her waist with his teeth. Working his way back up, he takes a nipple into his mouth. Bass runs his tongue gently over the puckered flesh as Charlie winds her fingers into his curls. She holds him to her breast, loving the way he licks and sucks. He uses his fingers on her other breast, molding the mound of flesh before pinching at her exposed nipple.

Charlie is soon writhing under his touch. He pulls away long enough to slide the dress over her hips and toss it on the floor. She's back on her elbows, watching as he memorizes her every curve with his eyes and his hands.

"Please," she begs.

"Please what?" he asks, his breath hot against the tender nipple he's been laving.

"Need to see you too." She says.

He leans back a little, his eyes hot on hers. "Okay." He says, but clearly is waiting for her to undress him. She is only too happy to oblige. Charlie unbuttons the old flannel shirt, shoving it off his shoulders. Next she takes his t-shirt and pulls it up. He lifts his arms so she can take it all the way off.

"Damn." She murmurs, reverently running her hands over the hard planes of his leanly muscled chest. Charlie leans in and kisses his flesh, pressing her lips against every line, every scar, one after the other. She feels him tense as his own desire begins to grow.

"Charlie…" he runs his hands down her naked back as she begins to suck at one of the tight little nipples. "Pants are a little tight right now."

She chuckles and moves her hands to his waist. "I see what you mean." She says as she lowers his zipper and his throbbing cock springs free. She hears his groan of appreciation as she wraps her small hand around his base, slowly. She is sitting next to him now, and kisses his mouth while she works his dick with her hand. He lifts his hips, thrusting into her fist. She lets go of him long enough to help him take off his boots and shimmy out of his jeans.

Charlie admires Bass in all his naked glory. "Damn." She says again, devouring him with her eyes. He lies down and pulls her down onto him, their bodies flush. She feels his erection between their bodies and she's never wanted anything more than to have him buried deep. She drops her knees to his sides, the only thing separating them – the damp fabric of her panties. Charlie moves against him, pivoting her hips so that she strokes the length of his penis with her heated sex over and over.

He rubs his thumb over her panties, finding her clit and stroking it through the fabric. The sensations of this touch almost send her over the edge. Not to be outdone, Charlie reaches between them, and grasps his cock again, pulling gently.

"Enough." He growls, flipping her easily so that it's now Bass on top. He kisses her mouth more urgently this time. His fingers wrap around the panties and soon they are off and no barrier remains. He settles between her thighs, the head of his cock resting against her swollen sex. He presses his lips to her ear. "You ready, Baby?"

Charlie tilts her hips, pressing against him. "Yes." She cries hoarsely. "Ready."

His mouth is on hers again. He reaches down and strokes his cock up and down her drenched slit. "Yeah, you are." He says before slowly sinking into her tight heat.

She lifts her pelvis and opens her thighs wider. "More." She begs.

He pulls out almost all the way, pushing back into her – deeper this time. She's so tight. This is more than he'd ever expected. Charlie's pussy grasps tightly around his cock as he thrusts deeper yet.

"More." She cries again, "You're so big, so hot. I want all of you."

He groans, picking up his pace. A few more strokes and he's buried to the hilt. Bass pauses for just a moment. He kisses her heatedly, "You have all of me Charlie. I'm yours." He says and then he begins to move purposefully, finding a rhythm that works for both of them.

Charlie wraps her legs around him, sinking her heels into his ass. Bass strokes her clit while he moves inside her. He feels her orgasm as her soft flesh tightly grips him. He pushes through her clenching orgasm, feeling her shudder as her world explodes. "Oh my God." She says in a shaky whisper.

He feels his balls beginning to tighten, and growls into her ear. "Don't want to leave you."

"Then don't." she says.

"No, I mean…"

"I know what you mean Bass. Do it. Fill me."

"Fuck." He moans, picking up the pace, loving how she's pulling him closer into her body - his thrusts become harsher – almost punishing.

She loves the feel of his cock thrusting and slamming into her. She's never felt so full, so stretched. His engorged penis hits all the right spots. Bass shoves into her as deeply as he can, bottoming out before pulsing hot and thick into her depths.

She revels in the way it feels to be filled like this, his seed hot and thick, coating the deepest depths of her pussy. It feels so amazing, so intimate, so perfect. He's still buried deep, his cock now still. "Oh Bass. That was better than… I never knew how good that would feel."

"You mean nobody's ever…"

She shakes her head. "No, Maggie used to tell me I shouldn't temp fate, so I never did."

Bass remembers the Fortune Teller's prediction about a baby, "Consider fate tempted." He says against her mouth. He starts to move from her, afraid he's too heavy, but she stops him.

"Not yet. Stay inside me for a little longer. Please."

"Okay." This isn't something she'll ever have to ask twice. He's never felt more at home anywhere than he does buried inside Charlie.

Later, he does pull from her to lie at her side. He takes her hand in his and they turn to look at each other. "Are you happy?" he asks.

"Never happier." She responds with a smile. They lie like that for a while, sated and happy. The mood is broken when they hear raucous laughter from the Lucky Nickel tent next door. There has been noise emanating from the neighboring tent all night, but till now they've ignored it.

Ignoring the noise becomes impossible when they hear Frank Blanchard's voice, clear as day, "For the love of god Boy, what are you doing?"

Bass sits up and stares in the direction of the voice. "Blanchard?" They both scramble to get dressed and move to the exit. Bass pauses for just a moment to look down at her. Their mouths meet in another kiss. It is sweet and loving and full of promise. There will be a lot more of that in their future.

Quietly they leave the abandoned casino and make their way next door. They peek through a hole and see Frank talking to someone but they can't make out the other guy. They hear a scuffle, followed by "Give me those damn papers Junior." By the time Charlie and Bass get inside the tent behind the Lucky Nickel they find Blanchard sitting sadly at a poker table. He's all alone.

Frank looks up sadly, "Hey kids."

"You found him?" Charlie asks.

"Yeah."

Bass sits next to their friend, "And?"

Blanchard shakes his head, "Kid's still a piece of shit."

"Did he still have the lists?"

"Yeah, he hadn't sold em to the Patriots yet. He'd been holding out for more money." Frank hands a brown envelope to Bass.

Charlie is worried. Blanchard suddenly looks old and very tired, "What did you have to give him in exchange for this?"

"All the diamonds I had and all that Texas allocated." Frank sighs. "He was happy with the money, but he's a greedy prick. He's going to want more and he knows you are in town, so…."

"The bounties?" Charlie asks, a chill moving down her spine.

Bass stands. "Let's get going. We can't stay in New Vegas."

"Yeah." Blanchard agrees. "Probably right now."

Charlie grasps Bass's hand and looks at Fran, "Ok. Lets go."

Frank stands slowly, "I think it's time we parted ways. You two don't need me. My friend who I was going to stay with…well, she owes me. Said she'd give me two of her horses. I'm giving them to you. I'll take my wagon and go the short route with the main roads and lots of towns that isn't good for you two. You guys take your time and go to wherever you are supposed to meet Miles at. Lots of time to talk and you know whatever without an old man like me to bog you down."

The three exchange looks. Charlie breaks away from Bass and gives Frank a big hug. "We're going to miss you."

"Oh you'll see me again." He seems to brighten a bit. "You should keep that dress Charlie. Looks good on you."

Charlie slaps Frank playfully, "Stop staring at my boobs."

The older man sighs, "But they're just so pretty…"

Bass chuckles, "I can't argue with ya." He slaps Blanchard on the back, "Thanks Frank… it's actually been fun to travel with you. You're a good guy."

Frank leads them to the horses he's promised, and they say their final goodbye. Charlie and Bass glance back and give their friend a nod and a wave. As they leave the town limits, Charlie looks over her shoulder at the gypsy city. "So we're leaving New Vegas for the third time.."

Bass grins, "And the third time WAS the charm."

"Yeah, your luck changed." She's smiling back at him, her eyes lock with his. "So did mine."

"For the better." He says.

Their horses are walking close together, and he reaches out to take her hand. She squeezes his fingers and sighs happily. The future is wide open.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Madame Veronica watches in the moonlight as the couple leaves her town. She smiles as best she can when she sees them hold hands and look at each other in a way that means something. She is sure they have a chance. The road might be rough at times, but the ride will be worth it.

Her companion enters, "They left?"

"Yes. You okay?"

He shrugs. "It was weird to see my Dad again. I wish things were different between us."

"You'll see him again. Things will be different next time. Your Dad really does love you."

He nods, "I listened to your readings you know. Haven't ever heard you do a séance before."

"Never did one before."

"Well, it seemed effective. How did you know all that stuff?"

She shrugs, "I knew some of it from things you've told me. I knew some from before…from when he was Jimmy." She chuckles, "And Frank told me a lot too when he was here."

"Frank is a character, that's for sure." He pauses, pulling her into an embrace, "Hope he found his kid."

"I'm sure he did. You know Frank Junior. Never does leave the Nickel. Shouldn't be hard to find.

"Well, I hope that everything works out for them. Junior is an idiot, but I like his Dad."

"Me too." The Fortune Teller agrees. "Time for bed?"

"Sure," he says, but stops. "Hey what you said about them having a baby… is that true?"

She pauses. "Yes. I don't know how I know, but yes."

"And the other part?"

She comes back toward him. "The part where I said you'll go back to Willoughby after their baby is born?"

"Yeah that part…."

"Yes Connor, that part is also true. If you want, you can even take your much older disfigured fake psychic girlfriend with you. I do love to travel after all."

Connor Bennett smiles at Lady Veronica. She had been his salvation when he'd hit rock bottom. He loves her. Sighing happily, he leads her toward their bed, "I didn't know that you like to travel."

"Oh, there's a lot you don't know about me yet. Stick around and you'll learn it all."

END

**A/N There will be an epilogue. Look for it in the next week or so. I'd love to hear your thoughts, so leave a comment if you have a minute. Also…if you write charloe fic, and love the holidays…check out thegoodshipcharloe (dot com) to learn about their holiday fan fic gift exchange. I'm doing it and hope you will too.**


	8. Chapter 8

Part 8: Epilogue (aka one more little surprise)

One year later – Just outside of Willoughby Texas. The Patriot War is over. The good guys won.

Miles is sitting on the front porch of the old farm house he calls home. He's nursing a whiskey – Rachel only lets him have one a day – and frowning at an unknown horse-drawn wagon that is bumping down their lane. The Patriots are history, but out of habit, he tenses. The wagon is a mash up of horse drawn carriage and ancient Volkswagen Bus. There is writing along the side of the yellow beast of a vehicle, but Miles can't make out what it says from this distance.

The eyes aren't what they once were.

"Rachel, come out here." He yells as the visitors get closer. The driver is a hulking man with short cropped hair. He's wearing an old tank top that shows off biceps the size of pony kegs. "What the hell?" Miles mutters to himself.

Rachel appears next to him. She has a dish towel in one hand and smells of baking bread. "What do you need?" she asks.

Miles nods in the direction of the wagon that has now pulled up in front of the house. Now they are close enough that Miles and Rachel can both read the elaborate purple script painted on the side of the yellow vehicle. "Who is Lady Veronica?" Rachel asks

Miles shrugs, "No idea."

The giant of a man hops down from his perch. He flashes them a big grin, "Hiya." He says.

"Uh, hiya." Miles replies with a smirk. "Who are you?"

"I'm Tiny." The giant says with a childlike smile.

"Of course you are." Miles is grinning now. "Why are you here, Tiny?" he asks.

Tiny shrugs, "They wanted to come for a visit and I asked if I could come along." He says this as if it should explain everything.

"So who is 'they'?" Miles asks. He opens his mouth to say more when the door to the wagon opens and a lanky man emerges.

He has a shaved head and a black moustache and looks oddly familiar though Miles can't place him at first. The visitor sees Miles and Rachel and smiles a bit nervously, "Hey."

Miles walks down the steps and toward his visitor, trying to figure out how he knows the guy. When realization dawns, Miles feels his heart jump in his chest. "Holy shit! Connor?"

Connor nods, "Hi Miles. My Dad around?"

Miles doesn't even turn, "Rachel, go get Bass. Connor is here."

Rachel gives him a look but turns to go inside.

Miles stares at Connor. "What the hell did you do to your head?"

Connor shakes his head with a laugh, "Nice to see you too. I started shaving it when all the wanted posters went up and I needed to lay low. Kind of liked it after a while."

"And the Tom Selleck lady tickler growing on your upper lip?"

"I have no idea who Tom Selleck is, but the moustache was also something I started as part of my disguise. When the war ended and nobody wanted me dead anymore…I decided I liked it and didn't want to shave it off."

Just then the door bursts open and Bass barrels down the steps, stopping dead in his tracks when he sees Connor. "Is it really you?" tears are glistening in Bass's eyes.

"Yeah," Miles answers. "Can you believe it? Connor and his lip luggage have decided to pay us a visit."

Bass walks to his son and pulls Connor into a tight hug. Connor is stiff at first but soon he's hugging his Dad back. The last time these two had met, neither had been sure they'd ever see each other again. Bass pulls back, his hands on Connor's shoulders. "I'm really glad you're here." He says softly.

"Yeah, me too." Connor grins, pretending his own eyes aren't a little wet as well.

The moment is broken when they all hear a baby crying. Charlie has come out and is standing by her Mom on the porch. She is holding a baby wrapped in a soft yellow blanket, and grins, "Connor? It's really good to see you."

She comes down the stairs, and holds the child so that Connor can get a good look. Bass wraps his arma around Charlie's shoulders. He looks back and forth between Connor and the baby for a moment, beaming. "Connor, I'd like you to meet your little sister. Her name is Vegas."

"Vegas, really?" Connor laughs, shaking his head.

Bass shrugs, "We argued a lot about names. This was the only one we both agreed on." He glances meaningfully at Charlie and grins, "It is a name that was…uh… significant to us."

"It's where she got knocked up." Miles adds with a shake of his head. "I need another drink."

"Ahem." Rachel frowns.

"Oh Jesus." Miles mutters. "Good to see you back Connor, but I'm going inside now."

"It's a great name Dad. She's adorable. May I?" Connor holds out his hands to Charlie. She hands him the squirmy baby who stares up at her big brother with wide blue eyes.

"I also think it's a perfect choice." Everyone glances up at the woman who has emerged from the wagon while they were talking. She moves to stand beside Connor as he hands Baby Vegas back to Charlie.

Charlie does a double take. The hair is different. Instead of long and red it is brown and stops at her shoulders. She still styles it to fall over her bad eye, but today the mask she wears is skin colored and far less noticeable. Instead of the purple gown, she's wearing brown pants and a leather jacket. Something about her is oddly familiar. "You're Madame Veronica." Charlie says, "But also someone else… I think I know you from somewhere else too?"

Bass squeezes her shoulders tighter. She can feel his hands shaking. "Sure you do Baby. Madame Veronica was once known as Duncan Page." Bass's voice cracks.

As soon as he says it, Charlie is amazed that she didn't recognize her as soon as she'd stepped out of the wagon. The mask and the facial disfigurement had simply been too distracting… that and the fact that Duncan is supposed to be dead.

Their visitor smiles her strange half smile. "Sebastian." She says softly.

"We thought you were dead." Bass says in a hoarse whisper. He still hasn't moved. Charlie looks at him and sees the shell-shocked expression he wears. She wraps the arm not holding Vegas, around his waist.

Duncan takes a hesitant step toward them. "I thought I was dead too." The side of her face under the mask has no muscle tone. She speaks slowly to make up for the occasional slurred speech. "Some Patriot asshole shot out my eye. Lucky for me the bullet came in at an angle and went out my temple. Bad news was my eye was gone and the trauma caused me to have a stroke. I was a bloody mess. Most of my men were dead. The ones that weren't thought I was and they ran off."

"I found her. She was still alive." Tiny frowns, "Couldn't lose her too."

Duncan turns her glance to the huge man with a child's mind, and nods at him. "Tiny saved me. He watched over me and nursed me as best he could. He found a doctor that sewed me up. He didn't tell anyone who I was. We all knew that if the Patriots thought I'd survived, I wouldn't last for long."

Tiny moves to stand protectively next to Duncan. He glances at Bass, "Hey Jimmy. Told you I could keep a secret."

Bass shakes his head, still stunned.

Duncan continues her story, "It was rough at first. I wanted to die for the first few weeks. Never had felt so hopeless. Tiny made me see things differently I guess. He'd lost someone very special in that same battle. He reminded me that I still had a lot to live for. When New Vegas moved, I followed along behind, and set up as Lady Veronica as soon as I was healthy enough. Tiny has been close by ever since. He's my guardian angel."

Connor takes her hand and also takes over the story. It's clear that Duncan needs a break from speaking. "So I stumbled into New Vegas after Neville went nuts. I didn't even know about the bounties at the time. I was kind of lost. Didn't feel I could come home. Didn't have anywhere else to go. I was sitting in this seedy little bar and she saw me. She could tell I was in trouble and recognized me from the dog fight and from all the wanted posters….though she didn't tell me that right away." He chuckles, shaking his head. "Anyway, she helped me get my head on straight."

"You weren't so bad off." Duncan says quietly. "I'd seen worse." Her glance falls on Bass.

Connor continues, "When Duncan took me in, I was a mess. She fed me and gave me a place to stay and more than anything, she listened. I had a lot bottled up, and it all came out. I didn't know who she was at first though she remembered me from the start. She called me Junior from that first day. I didn't get her little joke until I finally figured out who she really was. I'd been with her for a couple weeks when I figured that out." Connor smiles down at her and squeezes her hand. "We were both very aware that our identities needed to be guarded. I promised I'd keep her secret, and she helped me figure out a disguise." He points to his head and laughs. "So from then on I acted as Lady Veronica's assistant and everyone knew me as Junior."

Bass squeezes Charlie's shoulders and then moves to face his son and his old friend. "You saved him just like you saved me." Bass's voice is quiet and rough with emotion.

"Turns out I have a weakness for saving Monroe men."

Bass nods, not saying anything. His eyes are wet. Finally overcome, he lurches forward and hugs Duncan tight. His shoulders shake a little, but in a few moments he calms down and steps back.

"Stop blubbering like a girl." Miles says from the porch. Bass ignores him.

"Thought you went inside?" Connor asks with a smirk as his Dad moves back to Charlie's side. Bass takes Baby Vegas from her mother's arms and holds her close.

"I did. Now I'm back." Miles holds up a bottle of whiskey he had brought out with him.

"Miles!" Rachel says, stomping her foot.

"Sorry Rach. Too much shit going down today for just one drink."

Charlie has watched all of this unfold carefully and now a scowl spreads across her face. "You're not a psychic at all, are you?" She directs her question to Duncan.

"No. I'm not." Duncan shrugs a little, "Sorry about that. I was only trying to help, I promise."

"But you pretended to talk to Danny! You said Benji was there! It was all a lie." Charlie is pissed.

"Was it though?" Duncan doesn't appear phased by the younger woman's anger. She is calm and another of those crooked smiles appears.

"Well, yeah… I mean… wait. What are you talking about?"

"Maybe my methods weren't completely honest, but you needed to know it was okay to trust Bass. He needed to know he was worthy of love and that if he gave in, he might just find the happiness and the family he'd been hoping for."

Charlie looks at Duncan, and frowns as tears threaten. "How did you know it would work between us?"

"Kid, I knew something real was happening between you two when you came begging for mercenaries. So, when I got an opportunity to nudge you two idiots toward each other, I took it. That's all."

"Idiots." Miles repeats with a chuckle. "I like her."

Charlie crosses her arms stubbornly. "Hmph." She says.

Bass moves to stand next to Charlie and holds out their baby. "Maybe cut Duncan some slack. She may not be a real Fortune Teller, but I think she did okay – at least this time."

Charlie softens at the sight of her sweet Baby Vegas. It's hard to stay mad when faced with all those curly blond locks and big blue eyes. "Fine. You're right." She turns to Duncan, "Thanks, for.. you know… helping….for giving us that nudge."

"You're welcome." Duncan smiles crookedly as Connor wraps an arm around her shoulder and kisses her temple.

Miles pipes up, "Why don't you all come in? We'll have dinner. Rachel baked bread. There's some venison, and…" he looks down at the almost empty bottle in his hand, "I think there's more whiskey somewhere too."

The visitors agree and everyone starts for the door. Charlie pulls Duncan aside, "Thanks."

"You already said thanks." Duncan says, her eyebrow arching in question.

"Well, that was thanks for helping us get together… and I am thankful for what you did there. I was being stubborn." Charlie pauses for a moment. "Things are so good now…life with Bass and Vegas… it's perfect. I don't know if we'd have made it this far without your help."

"I think you would have gotten there eventually." Duncan says.

Charlie shrugs, "Maybe, but it's actually something else I wanted to thank you for. He told me what you did for him after the tower, how much you helped him, how much of a friend you were. So, thank you for saving him back then… and for bringing Connor today. Bass has felt like he had a missing piece ever since his son left. Now that he's back… well, you've made him so incredibly happy."

Duncan shakes her head, "Nah. I helped him get back on track. That's all. You're the reason he's happy. It's all you."

Bass comes back out onto the porch then. He eyes Charlie and Duncan curiously. "You guys coming in?"

"Yeah." Charlie says with a smile. We are."

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Later, when they've all had their fill of food and drink (Rachel's bread isn't nearly as tasty as Miles's whiskey, but everyone has had a bit of both), the group sits around catching up. Connor and Duncan talk about their plans to return to New Vegas. It is obvious that Tiny will follow them wherever they go. The Lady Veronica gig has been a success, and they will continue entertaining anyone willing to pay for the pleasure. Miles and Bass have filled Duncan and Connor in on how the Patriot War had been won, and everyone gets a chuckle at the recent news that Frank Blanchard will be the next President of Texas.

Charlie mostly just listens. She has settled into an old rocking chair in a corner of the big farmhouse kitchen. Vegas is curled in her mother's arms, sleeping quietly. Charlie strokes the baby's chubby cheeks, and watches the soft rise and fall of her chest. Charlie loves Bass with all her heart. He makes her happier than she could have ever hoped, but it wasn't until she became a mother that Charlie truly felt complete. Being in love with Bass, and being the mother to his sweet baby has made Charlie the happiest woman on Earth.

She notices that the room has gone silent and she glances up to see Bass standing in front of her with a nervous grin. "Hey Charlie."

"Hey?" She replies hesitantly, wondering what is going on.

Bass squats near Charlie's feet. He leans close and presses a soft kiss to the soft blond curls on his daughter's head. He then looks into Charlie's eyes and smiles again, "You know I love you?"

She nods, "And I love you Bass." She glances at the others and notes all eyes are on them. Rachel has a hand pressed against her mouth and her eyes look moist. Duncan smiles crookedly. Connor has his arm around his love, and watches with a pleased expression. Miles just rolls his eyes.

Clearly something is up.

"What's going on Bass?"

"You know how when we came back from the safe house after New Vegas and let everyone know we were together, we talked about maybe someday we'd get married?"

Charlie feels a lurch as her heartbeat accelerates. "I remember."

"And do you remember I said I wanted to wait because maybe the Fortune Teller was right? That maybe Connor would be here again? I wanted him to be there when we….you know."

"You want to get married?" she asks, eyes wide.

"Yeah," Bass says, his voice cracking a little. "Yeah, I do." He pulls something from a rear pocket and holds it out so that she can look at it.

It's a simple silver band. It's not fancy or flashy. "It's perfect." Charlie breathes softly. "I love it."

"So, is that a yes?"

"Yes." She leans closer to him to get a kiss, but Vegas stirs and both of her parents' attention is immediately drawn to the tiny child. Rachel swoops in, hushing her granddaughter quietly as she carries her to the other side of the room.

Bass grasps Charlie's hands tightly. "You are amazing Charlie. You and Baby Vegas…you are my life. I'll be happy as long as you are with me."

"Then you're going to be happy for a very long time." Charlie says before pressing her lips to his. "Cause we aren't going anywhere."

Bass stands and pulls Charlie to her feet. He wraps an arm around her and steers her to face the gathered people. "We're getting married." Bass says with a grin. Charlie smiles up at him.

"Yeah, we heard." Miles mutters, shaking his head. "All this mushy bullshit is killing my buzz though. Is there any whiskey left?"

"I'm pretty sure you've had enough." Rachel whispers harshly.

"Didn't need a psychic to see that coming." Bass mutters before kissing Charlie softly. They say good night and leave the kitchen, knowing that Vegas is in good hands with Rachel. "I really do love you." He whispers.

Charlie opens their bedroom door and pulls him inside the room. "Show me." She says.

So that's what he does.

END

**A/N I really hope you liked reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. It started with a tiny idea about Charlie and Bass visiting a psychic… and then it grew into something a bit more complex than I'd originally planned. Anyway, I love weaving a story together so that all the different parts come full circle. I hope that's what happened here.**

**Duncan Page has always intrigued me, and this story gave me an opportunity to really explore her character and what she might have meant to Bass. Watching that scene where he's just heard of her death, and he's grieving quietly…that breaks my heart every time I see it. Clearly there was a story there. This was my attempt to write it.**

**After the way I've been treating Connor in my other current story, I felt like he deserved some happiness here…and I brought in Frank Blanchard because that old pervert cracks me up and he's a hoot to write for.**

**In spite of the rest of what was going on here… at its heart, this was of course a Charloe story, and it was fun to give them a chance to slowly work through their issues with each other… and finally find together what they could never find apart: contentment and happiness.**

**Review if you have a minute. I don't think I can fully express how much it means to hear from readers. I adore every comment and review and not only do they keep me going…they also help me to improve my writing. So, let me know what you think.**

**Special thank you/shout out to my friend IceonFire7 who correctly guessed Duncan was the Fortune Teller. Since she figured it out I asked for her to review this epilogue and her feedback was much appreciated.**


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